


Walk Away

by Wind_Writes



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drugs, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fucking Russians, Gangs, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Never get involved with the Russians, Reader-Insert, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2019-10-04 13:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17305445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wind_Writes/pseuds/Wind_Writes
Summary: Despite your best efforts staying had never been in your families nature and leaving Riverdale had been unavoidable. Years later unfinished family business brings you back to a town and to people you had never planned on seeing again. Despite your best efforts, you are sucked back into the world of the Southside where old flames and feelings are determined to pick up where you had left them.





	1. Prologue

A halfhearted smile rested on your features as a cheer came from the pool table behind you; Fangs and Sweet Pea had taken on a high stakes game with a couple of guys from Centerville and from the sounds of if they were in the lead. Chancing a glance at the table, guilt coiled in your stomach as you watched Sweet Pea laugh at something Toni had said. Things between the two of you had been rocky for the last few months and you couldn’t help but blame yourself for most of it; seeing Sweet Pea like this only made the weight on your shoulders heavier.

Your family had always been known as wanderers, their nature for not staying long in a place well known on the south side. Your mother had floated in and out of town for years, you trailing behind her until something else called to her and you both hit the road again. At sixteen you had put your foot down, determined to end the cycle. Despite the permanent home, you never really shook the feeling of being a wanderer. You did your best not to get invested in anything just in case the wind changed, but then Sweet Pea had charged into life. There had been something about him that had silenced that need to wander, him being with you bigger than anything else you could imagine. At that time in your life you thought it would be different for you, that you wouldn’t be your mother’s daughter and follow in her steps.

Since graduation you had been content, Sweet Pea working at a local auto shop while you worked days as an LPN at Riverdale General. The plan, up until recently, had been that you would start nursing school next year, but then something started to pull at you. At first you had chalked it up to the changing of the seasons, then it had been the stress of work, then you tried to chase it away by taking a girl’s weekend to the City, but when you walked back into your shared trailer that uneasy pull resurfaced.

Every time Sweet Pea would ask what was wrong you’d tell him it was nothing, afraid that if you put the feeling into words it would only make him think it was something he was or wasn’t doing. And you couldn’t bare for him to feel that way; a pull like this wasn’t something he could change, it was one of the few things you had to come to terms with on your own. For months you tried to squash the feeling, thinking time would make it fade but it never did.

The more frustrated you got with yourself the more irritated you got with your situation. Tension wrapped itself around your relationship, Sweet Pea’s patience for your discontented attitude thinning. The two of you had gone to blows a few nights ago, the words spoken in frustration and anger slicing both of you deep. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, this wasn’t what you had envisioned for each other and yet you seemed to be stuck on this endless loop; the answer to all your problems leading to a heartbreaking end.

You turned to look as the stool next to you scrapped along the old bar floor, FP settling down next to you. The two of you had a fragile relationship, both not fully trusting the other; you always got the feeling that FP thought you were going to take away his best recruit while you were of the mind FP was going to get your boyfriend killed. You got along as best you could for Sweet Pea’s sake, but outside of your mutual there was no reason for your paths to cross.

“Not taking an interest in the game?” His question casual as he motioned towards the bar tender for a beer.

“The table looks crowded. I can see just fine from here.” Sipping on the Jameson that had been keeping you company for the past few hours, you snuck a peak at the table. Sweet Pea’s brown eyes caught and held yours, a soft smile spreading across his lips; butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you returned the gesture and turned back to the bar, hand idly spinning your half empty glass. Those butterflies are what made you stay, that feeling Sweet Pea left you with when things were good that made you believe nothing out there could make you feel the way he does.

“It’s not in your nature to stay.”

FP’s words had you tensing, the truth of them hitting to close to home; he knew your family history, knew what kind of people you came from. A cold chuckle vibrates in your chest as a took another sip of your whiskey. You knew his words were self-serving, FP’s stake in Sweet Pea’s life as big as yours. No matter his reason for voiceing his thoughts, there was no denying the accuracy of them.

Sweet Pea was a beacon for the Serpents, steadfast despite the chaos that surrounded the gang; no matter how much you needed him, you knew the Serpents needed him more. Asking him to choose between you or them would be sacrilege, a position you had never considered ever putting him in… until now.

“If you care about him, you’ll walk away.”

You focused your stare on FP before looking at your reflection in the back-bar mirror. In the far part of your conciseness maybe you had always known that, known that despite your best efforts you would never be able to settle completely in one place. You needed more than this little town, more than nights at the bar and dinner dates at Pops. It wasn’t fair of you to ask Sweet Pea to give up his family and the life he was building just so you could chase something you couldn’t even name.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the cheering of the young Serpents the only sound between you. Giving a slight nod, you downed the last of the amber liquid and rose from your stool. “I’ll see you around FP.” Throwing a twenty onto the bar you shrugged into the flannel shirt you’d stolen from Sweet Pea and slipped out of the bar without a word.


	2. Chapter 2

Four years, seven months and twelve days. That’s how long you’d been gone from the hell hole that was Riverdale. Not much had changed, you noted, as you maneuvered the old Buick through downtown. It was past normal business hours, but even in the glow of the street lamps you could tell main street still had the small town feel. Dark coffee shops with signs for artisan espresso drinks and fresh baked goods sat between shops where decorated window displays were made to entice people in out of the winter cold with sales for those spring break trips. The newspaper office was still in the same spot as it had been, along with the used book store and family run hardware store. There were new business that had made their way into town as well, a yoga studio and twenty four hour gym, a few art galleries and a small daycare. Town Hall looked to be wearing a fresh coat of paint and the police station seemed quiet this evening. By all appearances, the Northside of town was just as you had left it.

The car rattled as it crossed over the tracks, the slum that was the Southside coming into view. Not much had changed here either, a few businesses clung to life on the main drag, some in better shape than others, while the neon signs of the Wyrm and a few other low class establishments glowed against the night sky. Bikes lined the road in front of the Wyrm, your eyes chancing a glance to see if anyone familiar hung around outside before focusing back on the road in front of you. The lights of the bail bonds office were still on despite the late hour and there was a steady stream of activity coming and going from a fresh faced liquor store. Guess it didn’t matter how long you were gone, some things in this town never changed.

The flickering sign of the City Centre Motor Hotel sat a few blocks in front of you, the dilapidated rent by the week hovel was going to be your temporary home for the foreseeable future. Riverdale may have brought in some new business, but a new hotel was not one of them. Could you have gotten a nicer room in Greendale or Centerville? Sure. But all the business that needed to be concluded was here in Riverdale and commuting was just a waste of money and time. 

Leaving the boat of a car idling outside, you let yourself into the small lobby. The scent of stale beer, pizza, and body odor had you grimacing as you made your way to the front desk. The lobby, if you could even call it that, was sparsely furnished with a couple eighties erra chairs and a magazine rack with outdated issues of Newsweek and Town and Country; the carpet was old and stained and the pea green color of the drapes that hung against the windows did not helping the overall look. An outdated computer sat behind a worn particle board desk and the faint tune of the oldies hummed through the worn speakers of an aged radio. Ringing the call bell, you scanned the parking lot behind you as you waited for the clerk to come back to the front. A few bikes were parked in the lot, along with a beat up corolla and a few pickups that looked like they were better suited for the junkyard than the road. 

“Can I help you?”

A women in her late sixties glared across the desk at you, gray hair cut short and a cigarette pressed between her lips she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here. And you couldn’t blame her.

“Yeah, I need a room.”

“How long.”

“Two weeks.” You had no idea how long you were going to be in town, but you figured no one was going to be knocking down the doors to get a room here so you’d just add weeks as you needed.

Taking a drag from her cigarette, the older women focused her pale blue eyes as if trying to figure out what a girl like you was doing in a place like this. You weren’t clad in clear heels and animal print, didn’t look to be using or dealing and didn’t seem to be sporting a leather jacket or Serpent tattoo so you were outside the norm of her regular clientele. “Rooms are $120 a week and payment is due on the Saturdays. No pets and no smoking in the rooms.” Reaching beneath the desk she came back with a clipboard and room key and pushed them towards you, “You’re in room 108. Bottom floor.”

Hastily signing on the dotted line, you grabbed the key and pushed the clipboard back. “Thanks.”

“You can park that car in front of the room. Don’t be late on rent.” Without another word, she disappeared back into the office with a trail of smoke following in her wake.

“Yes mam.” Turning from the desk with a shake of your head, you let yourself out of the lobby and back into your car; hospitality apparently was not in the employee handbook for the City Centre Motor Hotel. Parking in front of room 108 you tried to will yourself from the vehicle as you stared at the zero on the door that was hanging low because of a missing screw. A couple of Serpents came from a room at the end of a row, their gazes watching the car cautiously as they made their way towards their bikes. Your heart skipped a beat for a moment at the site of their emblem, it had been a long time since you’d seen the two headed serpent but it brought a slew of memories flooding back. Memories that you did not want to revisit. Pushing back the rush of feelings, you hauled yourself and your duffle from the car and through the door of room 108.

Flipping the switch by the door, the room was awash in the pale yellow glow from the single lamp by the bed. Grimacing, you shut the door behind you, making sure to lock the deadbolt, and tossed your bag on the bed before exploring the small space. An outdated TV sat atop a yard sale find dresser, a mini fridge and microwave stacked together right beside it in the front of the room. A worn table and mismatched chairs sat in a corner beside the window and the queen bed sported some lumpy pillows and a nineties patterned worn duvet. The bathroom wasn’t in any better shape, rust staining the drains of the shower and sink while a seriously funky smell was coming from the toilet. It was a step up from the beer and BO smelling lobby, but you fully understood why you were only paying $120 a week. A grocery run was in order and bleach was at the top of the grocery list when you hit the store.

Flopping down beside your bag, you tried to let go of the tension that had coiled up inside you. Since you’d hit the town line nothing by nervous energy had buzzed through your system; when you set out on this drive you hadn’t thought much about being back, simply accepting it was something you had to do but since being within the town lines feelings of a different tune had been crawling all over you. When you had packed a bag and bought a bus ticket west four years ago, there had never been any intention to come back to town and yet here you were. It was your mother’s fault really, her death leaving a mess to be cleaned up and you, her next of kin, responsible for it.

She hadn’t been in the ground a week before the phone calls started coming in, claims that you were responsible for the debt she’d incurred before her death. You’d ignored them at first, thinking whoever it was would leave you alone in time but the calls got more frequent. It had just been annoying at first, but the longer it had gone on the more frustrated you’d gotten with the situation until you’d made the decision to take the situation into your own hands. So you’d packed a bag, told your boss you’d be out of town for a while, asked a friend to keep an eye on your apartment and house plants and hit the road in the more than gently used Buick that you’d bought off an old guy when you lived in Texas. You hadn’t given much thought to a plan of action or how you were going to get these people off your back, but something would eventually come to mind and you’d close this debt once and for all. For now you were back in a place you never wanted to be again and your biggest concern at the moment was making sure you avoided everyone from your old life.

You and your mother were pretty much proverbial strangers at the time of her death, neither of you having spoken to each other in years. You hadn’t even known she was sick, let alone moved back to Riverdale. Unbeknownst to you, she had maintained the ownership of her family’s home on the southside and apparently had moved back once her illness became too much to handle out of a suitcase. You’d found out about her passing only when the hospital had contacted you to collect her remains, a phone number you’d given to her in case of emergency had been listed as a contact for her next of kin. You’d made the arrangements from your tiny one bedroom apartment in the French Quarter of New Orleans, the cremation and burial of the urn a far cry from the pomp and circumstance that followed deaths in the Quarter.

You could have stayed in the house she owned, actually that you owned, instead of crashing in this fleabag motel but something about staying there didn’t seem right. A set of keys has been mailed to you but you and the utilities were still on, but you hadn’t worked up the courage to step foot back into the house. The family house still left you with a compilation of emotions, some good and some not so much. The last time you had been in it you were sixteen and watching your mom crawl into some strangers car on her way out of town; it hadn’t always been a happy home and you had enough of the past sneaking up on you as it was, so you figured it was better left alone for the moment.

Since leaving after your conversation with FP, you’d spent that last few years traveling and chasing something you still hadn’t named. You couldn’t complain, you’d stayed and seen more places than most people in Riverdale… hell more than most people in the country outside of cross country truckers. You had worked the fish market in Seattle, sold shaved ice and lived on the beach in a tourist town on the big island of Hawaii, sold bullshit maps of where Hollywood’s greats lived on Sunset Boulevard, bar tended in a small cow town on the Texas/ Mexico border, shuttled railroad employees to and from trains in Minot, cocktail waitressed in Deadwood, cleaned rooms in Reno and for the past year and half cocktailed and entertained in New Orleans.  

Louisiana was supposed to be another blip on the map, but instead it had become a new home...of sorts. It was the first place since leaving Riverdale that you’d been content in, where the constant pull of something had settled into a vague itch instead of a constant ache. You liked the little apartment, it was old but had been furnished and the landlord gave you a break on rent for helping with maintenance.

In a way, you should be thanking FP Jones for cornering you at the bar that night. It’d been a ballsy move on his part, not really sure where you and Sweet Pea were standing at that exact moment, but luck had been on his side. The two of you had been on just enough shaky ground that you had taken the older Serpent’s words to heart and did what you thought was best for everyone involved. FP kept his beacon, Sweet Pea kept his family and you got to explore the country.

The image of Sweet Pea laughing at the pool table as you walked out hit you like a ton of bricks. That had been the last time you’d seen him and it was an image that seemed to be the first image that came to you when you made the mistake of letting all of your walls down. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that you didn’t think of the dark haired serpent and his friends from time to time, but you were usually able to push it away with a new state and a new job.

A cold chuckle escaped your lips as your ran your hands over your face… his friends. They had been your friends too at one point; people that you had shared life experiences with, celebrated holidays with and caused trouble with. They had been the people who had taken you in when your mom left you in town to chase something she couldn’t name and in the end you had done exactly what you had sworn you’d never do. You had taken a card out of your mother’s own deck and left them all high and dry without an explanation. You’d even gone the extra step to leave your phone on the table next to the note, insurance that no one could get a hold of you and drag you back. 

You weren’t sure you wanted to know what they thought of you, should you happen to run into them. You had an idea what Sweet Pea felt when he came home to find you gone, but what had the rest of them thought? Were they hurt that you didn’t give them an explanation, mad that you had left them hanging after all that you’d been through, upset thinking that you didn’t trust them enough to share your fears with them or had they accepted your hastily written excuse and sided with FP’s logic that it was in your blood and simply moved on from it. You hoped for their own piece of mind they had thought along the same lines as FP and just accepted you leaving as something outside their control.

Shaking yourself from the probing thoughts of the past, you checked the alarm clock beside the bed for the time. Bright red numbers telling you it was just past ten at night blinked back at you, the day feeling much later than you knew it was.  Pushing yourself up from the bed, you pocketed your room key and made your way back to the car. A six pack was your best answer to a haunting past and the bathroom needed a good scrubbing with bleach before you could bring yourself to use it. Tomorrow you’d buckle down and start figuring out where to start with all the shit on your plate, not only was their your mom’s issues to right but you should probably find a realtor that was willing to list the house. The sooner that was taken care of the better, it was the last tie to this cursed town you had and you wanted it gone.

The parking lot was mostly empty as you pulled in, a few employee cars parked in the back the only sign of life at SoGreat Market. The southside might not have a lot to offer, but their grocery store was always open for business and they had the best selection of hot case food in town. A neon 24 hour sign blinked in the night as you made your way through the automatic door, a smile crossing your features as the familiar scent of over cooked hot case chicken and toilet bowl cleaner filled your senses. 

You couldn’t remember how many times you had come stumbling in here at two in the morning after the Wyrm had closed down in search of leftover fried chicken or corndogs and the store had never disappointed. Taking the long way to the back where the beer was, you were happy to see the hot case had maintained the same selection; corndogs, burritos, family sized buckets or chicken and some of the most questionable looking chinese food you had ever seen was keeping warm under the hot lamps. Passing on the urge to relive your teen diet days, you grabbed the freshest looking turkey sandwich you could find in the cold case and walked towards the floursents of the beer case.

The selection had scarcely improved since the last time you were in, the regular domestics taking front and center while a few fresh faced imports were sprinkled in here and there. Grabbing a six pack of Coors Light you started to make your way towards the cleaning supplies, bleach and scrubbing bubbles next on your list of must have supplies before heading back. Beer and cleaning supplies… a grocery list you were pretty sure that was pulled off of every white trash fridge in the Louisiana bayou.

Movement at the other end of the cooler caught your attention, a flash of black hair and a glimmer of a two headed serpent against black leather sending your nerves into overdrive. Turning quickly, you tried to calm your anxieties as you searched out the supply aisle. This was the southside, there were serpent jackets and dark haired men all over the place, there was no reason to think the guy at the cooler was the one person you were hoping to avoid.

“What are you doing back?”   


The familiar baritone voice sent your pulse racing and your steps halting, anxiety curling itself in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you adjusted the six pack in your arms and pivoted to come face to face with the angry dark eyes you had been hoping to avoid.

“Hey Sweet Pea… it’s been a while.” 


	3. Chapter 3

Tall, dark, and scowling. Sweet Pea had changed very little in the last four years and the look in his dark eyes was telling you that this was not going to be a joyous reunion. You couldn’t blame him, running into the women who ran out without so much as a word or reason after years together was probably the last thing he wanted at the end of his night. Based on the grease that clung to his hands and clothes it was safe to assume he was still working at the garage and the always present Serpent jacket adorning his frame meant he was still in the folds of gang life. He hadn’t changed much in your time apart, though his features had matured a little; face a little more rugged with a five o’clock shadow, hair a little longer, and beneath the perfect fit of his clothes you could tell he had taken care to keep the intimidating build girls probably still lusted over. Gone was the boyish arrogance in his air, instead replaced by a cold jadedness, and that stirred the little bit of guilt you still carried. It wasn’t an uncommon emotion to find on the Southside, which was a hard place to grow up and an even harder place to try to make a living in, but a part of you had hopped your generation would be the ones who had changed that. In the logical part of your mind you weren’t solely to blame for his circumstances, whatever they may be, but you couldn’t help but feel partially responsible for it. **  
**

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

Baritone voice halting your assessment, you looked down at the six pack in your hand before focusing on the serpent in front of you. “Buying dinner….” You could see his jaw clench in frustration at your literal interpretation of his question, a glimmer of amusement bubbling in you at the thought that you could still get under his skin.

“I meant what are you doing back in Riverdale.”

“I know what you meant.” Shifting slightly under his stare, you did your best to keep your features impassive. “I’m just tying up some loose ends from Beth’s estate.”

A trace of sympathy flickered across his otherwise dark features at the mention of your mother. Apparently it wasn’t a surprise to him that she had been back in Riverdale… or that she was dead.

“You couldn’t take care of it from wherever you were?”

Hostility dripped from every word, the sympathy you saw in his eyes not carrying forward to his words.

“Easier to do it in person than over the phone. And my apartment has crappy internet.”

An uneasy silence hung between the two of you, the beer cooler at the SoGreat Market not where you imagined having to make small talk with Sweet Pea. There were worse places you supposed, at least here it was a one on one interaction and there were plenty of escape routes to use when you inevitably chickened out from having to deal with the giant elephant in the room.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be around long. Just gotta get this little piece of business done and then I’m gone.”

“Never crossed my mind that you’d be sticking around.”

“And on that note…think I’ll take my beer and turkey sandwich and go.”

Resting your sandwich between two bottles and shifting the six pack once more, you offered him a half assed wave and headed back towards the cleaning aisle. If tonight was an inclination, obviously you weren’t going to be able to avoid the people from your past so the next best thing you could manage was portraying a lack of concern for your actions. If they thought you didn’t care then they would keep their distance and let you get out of town and back to your life; a life without complications or attachments, a life where people didn’t know where you came from and didn’t want to know. It was oddly comforting really, being able to come and go as you please and knowing that no one really paid much attention or cared. At least that was what you told yourself… if you said it enough you’d start believing.

Bleach in one hand and dinner in the other you made your way to the lone open checkout line, an elderly lady buying a few groceries and what looked like a month’s supply of cat food the only customer in front of you. The women working the register looked equally as old, her hair a box red and eyes painted with a bright blue eyeshadow, she offered you a gap toothed smile as she continued to ring up the never ending line of cat food.

If the two of them didn’t paint a picture for what your future would have been on the Southside, you didn’t know what did. No matter how well intentioned your plans would have been, luck was never on a Southsider’s side and you would have ended up like them, too poor to afford a salon to dye your hair and alone with a bunch of cats because the man you married would inevitably be killed or in jail because he chose to run with the Serpents.  

Adding a pack of gum and a lighter to your pile, you said a silent prayer thanking the cosmos that you got out while you did and scanned the collection of celebrity drama plastered across the front of the magazines. Divorce, babies, new blockbuster movie hits… nothing jumped out at you until you saw the most recent headline of the Register, “Body of Missing Boy Found. Accident or Homicide?” Amused more by the title than the actual article, you could only shake your head as you got deeper into the latest developments on the case. Dead bodies still showing up without explanation and the Cooper’s still creating drama with the headlines, two more things in town that hadn’t changed.

“Same shit, different day.”

Dragging your eyes from the article, you focused your attention on the dark haired man behind you. He appeared to be in his early forties, shorter in stature than you had expected but his eyes held light hearted humor as he grinned at you. The tension that had crawled into you muscles faded at the realization you didn’t know him. Nodding at his comment, you offered him a soft grin. “I can see that.”

“This all you want, dearie?”

Snapping your head forward at the cashier’s words, you tucked the newspaper back in it’s slot and grabbed a wad of bills from your back pocket. “And I need a pack of Marlboro Lights.”

“If you buy two, you save three bucks.”

“Fine, I’ll take two.”

“Those things will kill you.”

You gave the stranger an indifferent shrug as you handed a fifty to the older women, “That’s what they tell me.”

“Would hate to see a pretty thing like you lose her glow early because of a nasty habit like that.”

Stuffing your change back into your pocket, you offered the man a tight lipped smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Receipt with you or in the bag?”

“Bag is fine.”

“Have a great night!”

Offering the older cashier a smile, you nodded in the man’s direction and grabbed your bag and beer and hurried towards the car; though friendliness in small towns wasn’t uncommon, something in the stranger’s eyes and his overly friendly demeanor made you uncomfortable.

The chrome of a bike caught your attention as you tossed your bags in the back seat, the low rider Harley unmistakably belonging to Sweet Pea. It was as sleek as ever despite its age, the pride he took in the machine obvious based on the condition it was in.

The glow of the lighter illuminated your features as you lit the last smoke from the pack in your jackets, frame leaning against the driver side door as your thoughts began to wander. A lot of good memories had happened on the back of that bike, it had taken the two of you to friday night bonfires and camping trips in Fox Forest, trips to Greenville for concerts and even a trip across the Canadian border for one wild night after high school graduation. It had been the gateway to freedom for you both. A lot of not so great memories were thanks to that bike too, nights of him riding out on it after a big fight, anxiety pooling in your stomach as you watched him take it on Serpent runs not sure if he was going to make it home safe, a flashing memory of you sitting in the waiting room while Sweet Pea got stitches and a cast after crashing the damn thing on a sharp corner.

“Since when do you smoke?”

Startling at his baritone voice, you gave Sweet Pea an indifferent shrug, eyes not straying from the chrome as you released your heald breath, the smoke pushing through your nose and moving with the evening breeze toward the Serpent. “Since smokers get extra breaks during the work day.” That was partially true, you’d started taking smoke breaks in Seattle to get away from the floor, but you hadn’t actually started the damn things till Texas. You couldn’t say if it was out of boredom or in an attempt to find a way to quiet memories, but now you were stuck on them and didn’t have it in you to quit. The only good thing you could say is that you got hooked on lights instead of red’s and you figured that allowed you one extra drink at night in exchange for the lower nicotine content.

“Are you going to let anyone know you’re in town?” The earlier hostility seemed to be corked for the moment, his tone dropping from venomous to merely pissed off.

Taking a long drag from your cigarette, you pulled your eyes from the shimmering chrome to the tall figure hidden in the shadow of the old lot light. You could have gotten in your car and driven away before he got out of the store, but the way you’d parted at the cooler had made you pause. It would be better for the both of you to just rip the lid of this shit bubbling between the two of you now, get it out in the open so you could just get done what you needed to and get out without having to worry about him showing up again.

“I hadn’t planned on it.”

“You thought you were going to be able to sneak into town, handle your business and sneak out without anyone knowing you were here?”

“I didn’t think past getting into town. I figured I’d deal with the rest once I got here.”

“Toni will want to see you.”

Shaking your head in irritation, you knocked ash from your cigarette. “Seriously Sweet Pea? That’s what you are going with? That Toni will want to see me?”

Even in the shadow you could see his brows furrowed in confusion,“What did you think I was going to say?”

“I dunno- any number of things had raced through my mind. Figured you’d yell, curse at me, tell me to get out of town, ask why I left in the first place? But kudos, Toni hadn’t even made it into the top ten so props for keeping me on my toes.”

“I could care less why you left. All that matters is that you did and I’m over it. Hadn’t given you a thought until tonight!” His eyes may have been hidden in the shadows, but there was no questioning they were alight with temper as his voice rose. “As for telling you to get out of town, frankly I don’t give a damn what you do. Stay in town or don’t, it doesn’t matter to me one way or the other.”

“Gives me great comfort to know I won’t be disrupting your normal routine then”, animosity dripping from every word, you were becoming very aware of that familiar irritation that he stoked in you bubbling back to the surface as if it hadn’t been dormant for years. Was it selfish of you to want to hear him say that it turned him inside out when he saw you at the cooler, that it’d messed him up big time when you left? Of course it was, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to hear it.

“God dammit, Sweet Pea. I didn’t come back here to argue with you!” Taking one last drag from the butt, you crushed it beneath your boot in frustration as you tried to wrangle in your emotions. Yelling at each other in the parking lot of SoGreat Mart was not the right way to move forward. Taking a deep breath, you dropped your volume as you toyed with the empty cigarette pack in your pocket. “I just want to get Beth’s shit handled and then get out. I’m not here to drag up old issues or unfinished business. If I’m being truthful, that last thing I wanted was to see you.”

“Riverdale is too small for that, we would have run into each other eventually.” Temper soothed for the moment, a haggard sigh came from him and based on the rough outline you could make out in the shadows he was running his free hand through his already windblown hair. “So are you going to see Toni and Fangs?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know I can’t keep this from them.”

Considering his words for a moment you nodded in acknowledgement, the driver’s side door giving an aged creek as you wrenched it open. “You do what you need to do, Sweet Pea and I’ll do what I need to.”

“I can’t say that I’m happy that you’re back in town, but it’s nice to know that you’re alive and still doing whatever it is that you do.”

“Likewise, Sweet Pea. Likewise.” Offering him a smile that didn’t come close to reaching your eyes, you slipped behind the wheel and turned the old buick over, the two headed serpent on the back of his jacket illuminated in the headlights as he made it way back over to the waiting Harley.

Shifting into drive you turned from the parking lot in the opposite direction of the motel and headed back towards the main drag of the southside. Part of the change in direction was out of habit, always take different routes to destinations as a form of self protection and that you didn’t want Sweet Pea to guess where you were staying, but the much bigger reason was after that scene in the parking lot you were going to need something a lot stronger than beer and you were just hoping the liquor store was still open.

Arguing in spanish and the slamming of a door that shook your room sent you sitting straight up in bed, eyes wide with panic as you tried to register where you were. Groaning at the sight of the yardsale furniture and the still open bottle of Jameson you flopped against the lumpy pillows and pulled the duvet over your head to block out the sun as you tried to will the pounding in your head away. You had been in luck after leaving the parking lot, the liquor store had still been open and more than happy to sell you a bottle that wasn’t Black Velvet or Canadian Mist.

Based on the cotton mouth and pounding head you’d gone a little overboard, again. You couldn’t say it was surprising, when you mixed whiskey and high emotions you had a tendency to go all in and had yet to embrace the adult idea of self control. Peeking out from under the duvet as the arguing next door carried into the parking lot, the bedside alarm clock told you it was just past nine. You weren’t really sure where to begin with all of this, you wanted to clear up this issue with your mother’s debt first and foremost but you also wanted to see what kind of information you could find on these people before you went wandering onto their turf. And then there was the issue of the house, you had no idea what kind of condition it was in and who to approach to get the damn thing listed. Dealing with that giant pain in the ass had to be added to the day to-do list as well.

The shrill ringing of your cell phone startled you from your planning, hand absently sliding across the screen to answer without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello.”

“Hope your first night back in town was pleasant.”

The cool voice on the other end sent a shot of alarm through your system, it wasn’t that you hadn’t been expect the call but you weren’t expecting them to know you were already in town.

Doing your best to sound collected, you reclined against the headboard as you tried to gather control of your racing heart. “It was as good as Riverdale can offer…”

“I have to admit, I was surprised when I was told you were staying on the southside, I would have thought that in your absence you would have classed up your taste in accommodations.”

“I’m on a budget. Is there a purpose to this phone call?”

An exasperated sigh came across the other end of the line, a moment of tension filled silence simmering between the two of you. “I’m sure you are as anxious as I am to get your mother’s business concluded, so let’s not waste another minute. If it works for you, how about we meet this morning to hash everything out.”

“My day is a bit busy, but I’m sure I can make it work. What time were you thinking.” You didn’t think the flippancy would win you any favor with the gentleman, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“In an hour? Downtown.”

“What’s the address?” Searching the drawers of the night stand for paper, you hastily jotted down the address as quickly as the party on the other end rambled it off. You knew where the building was, it had been a thrift store before you left but you were pretty sure it’d turned into one of those coffee shops you drove by last night. “I’m assuming we’ll be meeting for coffee?”

“You assume correctly.”

“I’ll see you in an hour.”

“Look forward to meeting Beth’s daughter. She always spoke highly of you.” The click on the other end of the line told you he’d disconnected.

Dropping the phone beside you on the bed, you ran a hand over your face as you replayed the conversation over in your head. Beth speaking highly of you? If by that he meant cursing your very existence, he’d be correct; your mother and you hadn’t been on speaking terms at the time of her death, years ago the last thing you’d said to her was to not call you again and she’d thrown a barrage of unflattering names your way before hanging up. She’d taken your words to heart and hadn’t spoken since. You were taking a shot in the dark that he and Beth weren’t on friendly terms and that he was aiming to flatter more than anything.

There was no walking out of this now, they knew you were in town. In the next hour you had to attempt to make yourself presentable, figure out some sort of game plan for meeting these people and hopefully manage to walk out of this meeting in the same shape you walked into it in. Head still pounding and gut gurgling from last night’s bad decisions the first thing you needed to do was take care of the hangover and the only way to cure a hangover is a little hair of the dog; rolling from the mess of sheets, you grabbed a beer from the fridge and made your way to the shower. Meeting with these people for the first time smelling like a whiskey bottle probably wouldn’t make the best impression.


	4. Chapter 4

Sweet Pea drummed anxiously against the front counter as he sipped on coffee he didn’t really want, in need of the caffeine more than anything; Toni and Fangs had agreed to swing by on their lunch hour and his stomach was in knots at the thought. The second he’d watched you drive off he knew he would have to tell them, but how to break it to them had kept him up half the night. When he had finally fallen asleep his dreams had been plagued by your memory, the good and the bad times you’d had together. Everything had been going so well for him up until the moment he saw you in the store, he should have known good luck was never on his side for long.

The bell above the front door jingled, Toni’s heels clicking through first with Fangs right behind her, his hair covered in drywall dust from the latest job he’d been working on. Retreating to his office for the pizza he’d picked up, Sweet Pea added three bottles of beer from the fridge he kept well stocked before returning to the front, Toni and Fangs already seated at the counter.

“So what was so important that it couldn’t wait?” Popping the top on her bottle, Toni took a deep sip as she helped herself to a piece of pizza, it wasn’t uncommon for the three of them to get together for lunch from time to time, but Sweet Pea had been insistent about today and it had sent alarm bells off.

Toying with the bottle top, Sweet Pea watched the two friends across from him as he released a reluctant sigh; beating around the bush had never been his way and he had no intention of starting it now. He figured this was like ripping off an old band aid, the sooner it was out the better. “She’s back.”

Chucking, Toni took a bite of her pizza, leave it to Sweet Pea to be as vague as possible. “Ok… that could mean a thousand different people, going to need more information than that. Who’s back?”

“Y/N”

Fangs stopped mid chew, eyes wide in surprise as he just looked across the counter at Sweet Pea. He had to be mistaking… there was no way. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure Fangs, I fucking talked to her.”

“You talked to her? Like in person…”

Nodding, Sweet Pea took a long pull from the bottle to try and ease the anger that flickered as he watched the surprise and hurt dance across his friend’s features. He wasn’t sure if you knew or cared about the pain you had caused, but he cared for you and had always resented you for it. Family didn’t do this to each other. “Yeah. At the beer cooler at SoGreat Mart and then again in the parking lot.”

“Did she say what she was doing back?”

“Said she was just in town to handle Beth’s affairs. Didn’t sound like she was planning on hanging around very long.”

Fangs’ stomach dropped, everyone on the southside knew Beth and the trainwreck that she was, but he was surprised that you’d come back to clean it up. “What has she been doing since she left?”

“We didn’t get that friendly, Fangs.”

“Then what did you talk about?”

“There were more hostile declarations made than actual conversation…”

Toni had been silent since Sweet Pea dropped the bomb of information, her brain trying to wrap around the idea of you being back after all this time. The two of you hadn’t spoken since the night you high tailed it out of town and no one knew what had become of you. “How does she look? I mean…she look ok?”

“She doesn’t look like she got into any shady shit, if that’s what you’re asking Topaz.” You leaving had hit Toni just as hard as it had hit Sweet Pea, sometimes he thought even harder. “Still drinks the same brand of beer and just about bit my head off in the parking lot so that much hasn’t changed.”

“She wasn’t going to let any of us know she was in town, was she.”

It wasn’t a question. Your MO had always been the same and Toni was smart enough to remember how you went about your business. “No.”

Reaching for another slice of pizza, Fangs chewed over the information. You had been his saving grace more than once, there to help him through his mother’s illness and health problems when he couldn’t. If it hadn’t been for you, he wasn’t sure his family would have gotten through it. “So why are you telling us?”

“Because you were her friends once, too. Because you deserve to know.”

Peeling at the label on her bottle, Toni offered Sweet Pea a half-hearted smile. He may come off as rough and cold to people on the outside, but he was one of the truest and most loyal people in her life. “Do you know where she is staying?”

“No. And she isn’t at Beth’s place if that’s what you’re thinking. I did a drive by last night.” Sweet Pea knew exactly what Toni was digging for, the pink haired Serpent was going to make sure she saw you before you could disappear again. “I’m sure she’ll find you if she wants to, Toni.”

Brining the bottle to her lips, Toni sent Sweet Pea a cold look, “Not everything is going to happen on her terms.”

The coffee shop was bustling by the time you found a table, women just out of their morning pilates class and mom’s socializing while their small children terrorized other patrons took up most of the free space. Looking around, a stranger would think Riverdale was just another small town in America, the perfect place to raise your family where the biggest concern was if the football team was going to make it to state and who was going to be crowned prom queen; to bad you knew better.

Sipping on an Americano, you secured a table in the corner of the small shop, back against the wall so you could watch who came and went. Everything about this meeting went against your instinct; since you’d started down the road of traveling on your own you’d always been careful not to put yourself in harms way and had been, up to this point, mostly successful. Now here you were, meeting a strange man, with what you assume were less than honorable intentions, in a town where everything bad happens with stellar dramatics.

As soon as he walked through the door, you knew he was there for you; a tall man with salt and pepper hair with dead eyes tended to stand out amongst the ponytails and yoga pants. Your pulse began to race as he helped himself to coffee from behind the counter before slowly making his way towards your table, a chilling smile spreading across his features as he took a seat across from you. He hadn’t come alone, a blonde muscle head was hovering at the rear exit and you were pretty sure the dark haired man settled at the front door was the same man from the store last night. Always nice to confirm suspicions that you’ve been being followed.

“You must be Y/N.”

The hint of a russian accent sent chills up your spine, leave it to your mother to get involved with a fucking Russian. “And you are?”

“You can call me Ioann.”

Nodding, you took a sip from your drink as you scanned the room. No one seemed overly concerned by the mob looking man, obviously the patrons of Riverdale were used to his presence. “Ioann… got a last name to go with that?”

Ignoring your inquiry, Ioann considered you for a moment, the way his cold eyes raked over your frame sending an uneasy hum through your veins. “You look just like your mother.”

“Thanks.” Toying with the lid of your cup, you shifted uncomfortably as he continued to watch you, being compared to Beth had never been something you found flattering.

“Cute little shop isn’t it?”

“Charming.”

“Can never go wrong with coffee, soccer moms and teenagers can’t get enough of these frilly drinks and cute little pastries.” Waving his hand absently in the air, Ioann smiled into his coffee. The first rule of illegal business was to make sure you had a legal one to stand in front of.

“Did you invite me here to talk about your success in the coffee business or are we going to get to the point of this meeting?” You were pretty sure sass mouthing a suspected organized crime member was not on the list of things to do, but casually talking in a coffee shop surrounded by the homemakers of Riverdale was making you itch.

Lip curled up in annoyance, the man across from crossed his arms over his chest and reclined in the chair. Looking like Beth wasn’t the only trait you’d inherited apparently. “How much do you know about what your mother was involved in?”

“Nothing. Beth and I weren’t on speaking terms when she passed.”

“That’s a shame.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you mirrored Ioann’s cool look as you took another sip from your cup. If not being involved in Beth’s affairs ended you up here, you could only imagine where you’d be if you’d stuck around with her. “Not really.”

A glimmer of admiration flickered through his as he watched you sip on overpriced coffee, you weren’t a pile of emotions or cowering like most in your position would be. “Beth was…a contract worker of mine at the time of the passing. Doing deliveries and such for me.” Ioann glanced around the room, his cold look checking to be sure his associates were still in place before continuing. “She was entrusted with cargo of significant value to be delivered to a partner and it would seem that it never made it them.”

“And this has what to do with me?”

“Sins of the father shall be visited upon the sons, as the saying goes.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the man’s dramatics, leave it to a criminal to quote scripture to justify their actions. “I’m a new testament sort of girl.”

“Yes well… I still operate very much in the old.”

“So what? You want me to pay for the goods she stole?” How much product could she really have made off with? You’d pay the bill, take care of the house and be back to Louisiana before Sunday rolled around.

“I doubt you’ll be able to cover it.”

“Try me.”

“A little over fifty thousand in pharmaceuticals that were to be sold… through other means than the pharmacy.”

You could feel the color drain from your face as the amount your mother had stolen hit you full force. What the hell had she been thinking trying to make off with that much product? You had a small nest egg set aside in case of emergencies but it wouldn’t begin to cover that. He’d known that you wouldn’t be able to cover her debt from the get go and yet he still set up the meeting. “I would assume you have a plan B, otherwise you would have just sent an invoice if you knew I had the cash.”

Knowing he had you between a rock and a hard place, Ioann smirked over the rim of his coffee cup at you. A woman with an attitude like yours could prove to be quite the asset, especially if you’re proven to be a loyal employee. “You will work for me to pay off your mother’s debt, her death has left me a driver short and that buick of yours can carry quite a bit.”

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he knew what type of car you drove, afterall he knew where you were staying, but it sent a wave of anxiety through you all the same. “What if I don’t want to be a driver?”

“Every town has its dark side. A young thing like you? I’m sure you’d be able to earn a pretty penny with the suits when they are in search of more fun than just their desperate housewives.”

The idea of his suggestion had your lip curling in disgust, you’d taken a lot of low jobs over the years but never in all that you had been through had selling yourself ever been an option. “And if I don’t agree to any of this? Just pack up and go back home?”

Ioann drummed his fingers against the table, the cold but easy demeanour fading away to let a more menacing presence through. “That little apartment you have in the quarter is fitting for you. You’ve got quite the thing for plants.” He got great pleasure in watching your eyes widen at the realization he knew more about you than originally thought; you hadn’t even begun to know what he was capable of, but this little conversation was only the tip of the iceberg. “Quite an eclectic group of people you hang out with too…would hate for some misfortune to hit one of them.”

You stared silently at the older man, unable to do much more than agree to his terms. There was no way of knowing if he was telling the truth, but you weren’t in a position to question him. It had been your own decision to get wrapped up in this mess, but you were not willing to let unknowing bystanders get pulled in too.

Seemingly satisfied with your silent acceptance, Ioann tossed a burner phone on the table between the two of you as he got to his feet, the goons that had been reclining at the doors standing to attention. “I’ll be in touch.”

Snatching the phone from the table, you shoved it into the pocket of your coat as Ioann vanished through the front door. If you were going to be in this thug’s employment, you needed to figure out just what you were getting yourself into.

Buick parked against the curb, you peered through your windshield at the building across from you. The house hadn’t changed a lick since you’d left, still the same shabby white siding and clown red front door looking over a weed covered front lawn and a falling down fence. Obviously updating the dilapidated dwelling had not been on your mothers to do list before she passed. It looked older, more tired, than it had that last time you’d seen it, but years on the Southside would do that to buildings, and people, when they weren’t taken care of.

The meeting with Riverdale’s version of the Bratva had left your skin crawling and the last thing you had wanted was to go back to the fleabag motel, so you’d ended up here. Eventually you were going to have to deal with this giant inconvenience anyways, so you figured you might as well know exactly what you were looking at. The sooner you got the house ball rolling the sooner you could get out of town and back to the life you’d put on pause back in New Orleans.  

Shaking a smoke from a pack in the cupholder, you slipped from the driver side and started your treck down the driveway, eyes darting over your shoulder to see if you’d drawn any attention. Like any other town, Riverdale had its fair share of nosey neighbors and the last thing you needed was some homebound spinster making calls about a prowler. Taking a deep drag from the cigarette, you glanced at the front door for a beat before deciding against it and continuing towards the back of the lot; you were pretty sure waltzing through the front door of a house that has been vacant for months was the quickest way to draw attention to yourself.

The back of the lot was in just as good of shape at the front was; grass over grown and screens hanging from half a dozen windows, you were at least grateful that all the glass was still in place and the steps to the back door looked to be in pretty good condition. The single car garage shoved in the far corner of the drive seemed to be in slightly better shape than the house, the paint not as worn and what appeared to be newer locks on the side door shimmered in the afternoon sun. A spark of curiosity flickered as you considered the lock, changing only the lock on the garage when nothing else on the house was updated or cared about seemed rather suspicious, after your meeting with Ioann and knowing Beth’s inclination for trouble only solidified your feelings.

Butt pressed between your lips, you jimmied the knob in hopes that it’d be open but of course it wouldn’t be that easy; digging into your coat pocket, you toyed with the keys on your ring before finding the one that had been mailed to you, a grunt of frustration rumbling in your chest at the key failed to fit the lock on the knob and the deadbolt. Why did everything revolving around the shit your mother left you have to turn into such a damn project, it was only day two into this endeavor and you were already kicking yourself for letting yourself get dragged back into her train wreck of a life. Taking the cigarette in one hand, you kicked at the door in aggravation, smoke curling around you as you released a pent-up breath before turning around to the back steps. There had to be a key somewhere in the house that would let you into the garage, it was just a matter of finding it.

An aged creak sounded as you ventured up the steps towards the mudroom, the screen of the storm door laying limp against the faded metal. It was a shame really, this little house had been a home once, a place where your grandmother had raised a family with love and laughter but all that was left now was a ghost of what it once was. The key slid effortlessly into the deadbolt, the lock tumbling and the door giving way under a light shove; you could see dust filtering through the air as your eyes adjusted to the dark interior, the heavy scent of dust and age assaulting your senses as your shut the door behind you and walked towards the main house.

Though the kitchen was old and floor worn, you were surprised at how clean it was; the cupboards had been painted since the last time you were in the house, the ugly blue replaced by a soft yellow that batter matched the white backdrop and the off white flooring. The sink was still the same old porcelain and the fridge was straight out of the 40s, but it looked like the countertops got a cheap upgrade and the light fixtures weren’t a fire hazard anymore; besides a thin layer of dust coating most of the surfaces and a glass ashtray filled with old butts on the kitchen table, a person would assume the homeowner just made a run for the store.

Dousing your cigarette in the ashtray, your fingers skimmed along the table top and then across the counter as they made their way to the sink, a trail left in the just leading to the faucet, the old pipes rattling for a second before water began to sputter from the tap. Apparently your mother had made an effort to update the small living space, hopefully the other rooms were in as good of shape as the kitchen.

The window above the sink looked out on the overgrown backyard, but if you looked hard enough you could almost make out the old fire pit you’d built back there. The house may never have been a home, but there had been some good memories made in it all the same; cookouts your mom had thrown, fires with your friends, your first kiss under a starry summer night sky…Riverdale hadn’t been all bad all the time. Footsteps on the back stairs made the hair on the back of your neck stand up, you highly doubted the men from this morning would be searching you out again so soon so that meant it was someone that knew you or your mother, the former your biggest worry.

“Figured you’d show up here eventually.”

“Fuck…” Muttering under your breath, you pivoted in the small kitchen to face the newcomer. You should have known it wouldn’t have taken long for Sweet Pea to tell the rest of them that you were back in town. “Hey Toni.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me this long to get the next chapter up! Obviously not very good about juggling multiple fics! Still not willing to establish a posting schedule for this, but hopefully it won't take over a month to post the next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is finally here! So sorry it took me this long to get it updated. I usually try to keep my chapters between 3k and 4k, but apparently this one got away from me! If you read Pretenses, you’ll recognize a familiar face in this chapter- because I’m attached to him and my side characters don’t get enough love from me. Hope you enjoy.

Tension hovered in the air as you and Toni faced off in the kitchen, each of you studying the other in silence. There was little of the women in front of you that resembled the Toni you left behind; gone were the skimpy shirts and fishnets, in their place a sleek pantsuit and snakeskin pumps to accent. If it wasn’t for a pink tinged locks, artfully piled at the base of neck, you’d be hard pressed to believe that the person standing in your kitchen was the same one that used to sling beer across the bar to a bunch of bikers.

“Sweet Pea said you were back in town.”

It wasn’t the words that Toni said that made you cringe, but the way she aimed them at you; bitterness and distrust dripping from every syllable as she pinned you with a hard look. Sweet Pea had done just what he had said he would, informed the troops that you had breached your self-imposed line, but how Toni figured out where you would be at was beyond you. “How’d you know I’d show up here?”

“I didn’t. It was just a hunch.” Toni knew that Beth had the house when she passed, but it had been a shot in the dark whether or not you were going to show up to it today, or any day for that matter. Your relationship with Beth, or lack thereof, was well known amongst the group and if what Beth had said over the last few months of her life, you had done nothing to repair it. Not wanting to ask to many questions and unsure of what you were even driving, Toni had gone with her gut and simply lucked out when she saw you standing in the kitchen. “What are you doing back?”

If Sweet Pea was going to run his mouth about being back in town, the least he could do was forward on the rest of the information. “Apparently Beth had some outstanding…accounts that needed to be taken care of.” Outstanding accounts that apparently involved scary Russians and whatever the hell she’s got locked in the garage, but you figured Toni didn’t need to know that much detail. “And then there is this. Needed to see the condition before I listed it.”

Playing your cards close to your vest had been your style since Toni first met you and it was apparently still your preferred course of action. ‘Outstanding accounts’ could mean a thousand different things in this town, anything from an unpaid parking ticket to a debt with the loan shark that lived in the motel. Whatever the reason, it was lost on Toni as to why you’d have to come back to deal with it. “Couldn’t just handle it all from wherever you’ve been living?”

You couldn’t help but snort, if there had been any possible way to avoid coming back to this shit town, you would have done it. “Not really…” Grabbing a seat at the worn kitchen table, you eyed the doused cigarette that still smoldered in the ashtray. Had you known the visit here was going to head in this direction, you would have brought the pack with you. “I’m not staying long.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

Toni’s response had your lip curling up in disgust and your stomach balling up with anxiety. Her anger was understandable, but you’d gone out of your way to avoid everyone and they continually search you out to rub your nose in your past actions. They were pissed, you get it, no need to rub salt in the wound. “I’ll stay out of your way, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You haven’t said boo to me in years so why would you think I’d be worried about you hanging around me now?” Toni knew she was being harsher than she had meant to be when she walked through that door, but seeing you standing there, flesh blood, something snapped and she couldn’t help herself. Years of fear, regret and anger was coming out faster than she could filter it.

You did your best to keep yourself under control, the muscles in your jaw tensing as you spoke through gritted teeth. “If you’re here just to pick a fight I’m not in the mood.” You had thought over the last few years you’d curbed your temper, very little sending your blood boiling like Riverdale had, but based on the encounters from the last two days your control what not what you had thought it to be.

“I’m not here to pick a fight.”

“Then why the fuck did you show up?” Temper getting the best of your emotions, you couldn’t help but jump to your feet, eyes hot with anger as Toni took a few steps back. “If you’re just going to be a bitch you can walk your ass out the door you came in.”

The air in the small kitchen seemed to change as your words settled, the tension that had been almost suffocating disappearing as Toni grinned over at you with a nod of approval. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“You have.” Toni’s sudden change sent you for a loop, going from openly hostile to satisfied wasn’t the reaction you had been planning on. Settling back in the seat you had abruptly vacated, you watched wearily as Toni took a spot across from you. Animosity between two people wasn’t solved that quickly, if anything she should be even more pissed by your blow up, but the pink haired Serpent didn’t seem phased. You had wanted her to leave…not make herself comfortable.

“I classed up a little bit, but still the same old me.” They’d all changed in the past four years, the lot of them deciding it was time to get respectable careers, though they’d all maintained their Serpent membership. She was selling houses, Fangs was remodeling them, Jughead was free lancing, Sweet Pea had the garage and then there was you… “So, what have you been doing?”

“Odd jobs. Traveling.” What you’d accomplished since you left seemed trivial. No career to speak of, nothing but a rundown car and some ratty furniture to your name, but you had freedom. The sought-after freedom that you uprooted your entire life to have, let’s not forget about that. “I’m cocktailing in New Orleans at the moment.”

A glimmer of envy lit up Toni’s features at the idea of New Orleans. “I’ve always wanted to go there. I’ve heard the food is great.”

“It’s something all right.” New Orleans offered a lot of things you loved, amazing food, great music, fun nightlife and your job paid well. You also felt smug satisfaction that there were things you were doing right now that made people from your past just a tad jealous, especially since your life wasn’t anything to write home about. Your quaint little apartment in the French Quarter was the first place you’d been comfortable calling home since you left Riverdale and you felt content there, but not happy. You’d yet to find the happiness that you once had here, with your friends…with Sweet Pea, but you weren’t sure if that was something you’d ever have again so content was better than nothing.

“Is that where have you lived since you left? Your mom never told us?”

“I’ve been in Seattle, Hawaii, Texas…..” Realizing exactly what Toni had just uttered stopped you mid-sentence. You were no longer interested in reliving your travel adventures and rubbing in all the places you’ve seen, instead a hundred percent invested in just who your mother had dug her claws into before her passing. If you knew who she had contact with, it only could help the growing cloud of mystery that surrounded your Russian friend. “What were you doing talking to Beth?”

“I helped her out a few times when she was sick.”

“Why?” None of your friends had been particularly accepting of Beth, but Toni had been second in line on the list of people that detested the women. The pink haired Serpent had been standing right beside you as Beth climbed into the back of some guys car and left you on the curb with nothing more than an empty promise that she’d be back eventually, so Toni’s admission sent alarm bells ringing through your system.

“Because she needed help.” Toni wasn’t particularly proud of stepping up to help a women she’d once detested, her years of motherly neglect couldn’t be forgotten, but when she’d come around the Wyrm asking if anyone had heard from you, Toni didn’t have it in her heart to turn the women away. She didn’t know if she had just been reeling from recently losing her grandfather or was just turning soft, but from that point on she’d stepped in and helped where she could, when she could, to make Beth’s last few months as comfortable as possible. “The last stint in jail did a number on her.”

“She was in jail? Recently?” Beth had been a frequent flyer at the sheriff’s office since you could remember, but she wasn’t really a long-term type. A week, maybe a month at max, and she was back on the street and back to doing whatever it was that she did. For Toni to admit the last stint she put in was harsher than what Beth could handle made you think she was in for a longer jag, and that was one more sliver of information that made you suspect it was tied to your conversation from this morning.

“You didn’t know that?” Toni knew that your communication with Beth had been sparse, but she was beginning to think sparse was a generous term and it was leaning more towards nonexistent.

“What was she in for?”

“Possession, I think.”

You should have figured as much. But possession was a minimal charge for what she supposedly stole, so it only stood to reason she was caught only with her recreational product and not the missing pharmaceuticals.  Absently, you toyed with the burner phone that was still shoved in your pocket; if Beth had ever been caught with any of her employer’s product it would all be in the bond records, along with all her other collars; Toni might not know anything more but someone in town sure as hell did. “Does Lonnie still run the bond office?”

“Of course- he’ll never give that up.” It was as if Toni could see the gears turning in your head, the sudden curiosity of what your mother had been up to after no interest in her life meant you were brewing up something. None of this had anything to do with the house you said needed to get sold, so Toni figured it could only tie into the vague “accounts” you mentioned and in a town like Riverdale, that could be taking you down a dark road there was no getting back from. “What, you gonna pay him a visit?”

“Maybe.” You hadn’t seen Lonnie in years, but he’d always been accommodating in the past so you had no reason to think he wouldn’t be again.

“What does it matter what your mom was in for? She’s gone.” It was no business of Toni’s what you got yourself wrapped up in, after all you had left them high and dry, but she couldn’t help but worry. Beth had never been on the up and up, even at the end of her life she’d been looking over her shoulder, and Toni would hate to see anyone pulled into the dark side of Riverdale, even you.

You did your best to be as indifferent as possible when you met Toni’s gaze, there was a very good possibility that Lonnie’s records would tell you nothing, but in case they did end up more fruitful than you expected no one needed to know what you were getting into. Your goal at the end of all of this was to do what you had to do for the Russian without getting noticed and get out of town without a mark on you or your record. The best way to accomplish that was keep your past and your present as far away as possible. “Just curious I guess.”

Toni finally had to relent to the staring contest the two of you wound up in as her phone vibrated against the table, brows furrowing as a client’s number flashed across the screen. “I gotta run.” The interruption couldn’t have been more ill-timed; there was so much more that needed to be said between the two of you before she was going to be satisfied and this new wrinkle of your interest with Beth’s record alarmed Toni, “This conversation isn’t over. We have a lot of shit to still hash out between us.”

You’d been relieved when the conversation had taken a turn for the present instead of resurrecting the past and the idea that Toni wanted to revisit it only strengthened your resolve to avoid everyone. “Can’t wait….”

Toni gave a reluctant grin as she moved from her chair, the ending of this meeting was better than she had anticipated but knew full well that it wouldn’t take much for the situation between the two of you to head south, quickly. “I’ve got a bag of feelings about you being back, but it is nice to see that you’re doing ok. I was always worried about you.”

Guilt hit you like a sack of potatoes as you watched Toni right her suit coat and head for the door; for the past four years you’d been able to avoid any feelings of regret for doing what you did, but since you stepped foot back in this god forsaken town you’ve been hit with it from all sides, the majority of it self-imposed.  “I’ll catch ya later, Toni.”

“Bye.” Offering a hasty wave Toni slipped from view, the slamming of the screen door and the receding click of her heels on the walk finally releasing the anxiety that had curled in your gut. The past never brought anything positive to your life, and though Toni’s visit had been unwanted, it had proven at least to be informational. The rest of the house inspection could be put on the back burner for a little while longer, you weren’t going to be any closer to listing the damn thing with one quick walk through and there was a bail bondsman with some information to visit.

The bond office was still in the same brick building it had been since you first moved into town, the old building one of the few original brick structures to survive the depression and decay that seemed to affect the rest of the buildings on the Southside. You never figured out why this particular building seemed to be immune to the influences of the residents, but Lonnie was a saving grace for a lot of people on this side and you suspected that it was a show of respect to the man, and not so much for the artistry of the building, that kept it free from vandalism.

The man in question sat hunkered down behind the front reception desk as you let yourself into the office, his eyes not lifting up from the paperwork that sat in front of him. “I’ll be right with you.”

It didn’t appear that he’d changed a lick, his handlebar mustache was as full as ever and the shaggy brown hair he sported was as unkempt today as it was the last time you saw him. The faint hint of Stetson cologne mingled with cigarette carried off his worn flannel and you were pretty sure that the guy had gotten even broader across the chest in your absence. “What, did you hand off bounty hunting to someone else and take up reception full time?”

Lonnie’s head shot up at the sound of your voice, a bright smile spreading across his features when he registered who was standing on the other side of his desk. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

“Hey Lonnie, it’s been a while.”

Coming around to wrap you in a friendly hug, Lonnie playfully ruffled your hair before setting you aside. The two of you had always had a good relationship relationship when you lived in town; while you had never been in need of his services for yourself, you’d used him a few times to get Beth out and numerous times to help get some Serpent out of a bind. He’d kept an eye on you over the years, making sure you kept your nose clean despite your mother’s bad influence, and you had appreciated the gesture more than you could put into words. “Four years or so, aint’ it?”

“Just about.”

Long legs kicked out in front of him, Lonnie leaned heavily against the front of the desk, his initial excitement at your presence being replaced by curiosity at seeing you after all this time without a word. People disappeared from the Southside all the time, it was just the nature of the land, but you leaving town had been a harder blow to take than he had thought it would be. “What are you doing back in this part of the country?”

“Just finishing up some things.” Vague might work on Toni and Sweet Pea, but Lonnie made his living off people who thought the law was optional and he wasn’t going to grant you any favors until he knew exactly why you were digging into your mother’s record.

“Can’t imagine you’d come all the way back to this shit town for my bond assistance.”

Unable to hold his penetrating stare, you turned your attention to the wanted posters he had hung around the room. A few faces of older Serpents you recognized jumped out at you, but no one you knew by name and the men from your meeting this morning were nowhere to be seen. “Not so much.”

“Then what are you looking for?” He’d been in the game a long time and had gone enough rounds with Beth to know that her daughter was cut from a similar cloth, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

“Beth’s records.”

Lonnie just stared at you as you finally brought your gaze around to meet his, a smirk of amusement almost hidden by his signature facial hair. “You know I can’t give those to you…”

“Why not, it’s not like she’ll care. She’s dead.”

While he had never been on team bad mom, your callousness towards her passing almost made him flinch. As crappy of a mother as she was, she was still your mother and still had a hand in shaping who you became, for better or worse, and completely writing off any emotion that you might have towards her wasn’t going to end well for you. “Why do you want them?”

“Just curious what she was up to…” That wasn’t a lie, what Beth had been doing since she dropped back into Riverdale up until she died should help you piece together how she got wrapped up in this mess. And besides, you were damn curious about just how much time she’d spent in jail over the last couple years.

Figuring there wasn’t anything in his file that you wouldn’t get your hands on eventually, Lonnie relented and unlocked the file cabinet across the room from the desk; in no rush to hand over the documentation, Lonnie leisurely searched through the files as he watched you anxiously fiddle with whatever you had shoved in your coat pockets.  “And what have you been up to?”

“Seeing the sights.” There was something in Lonnie’s tone that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up, he knew something that he was waiting for you to own up too, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what he was digging for.

“Some of the same sights as your mother?” Lonnie schooled his features as you whipped your head around at his accusation, the rosy color that had been in your cheeks when you first walked in was gone. The fears he’d initially had those years ago were sadly confirmed, you’d found your way into some of the same trouble that had plagued the rest of your family. “Your name popped up when I was doing paperwork for Beth…”

You had done your best to push your youthful mistakes out of your memory and Lonnie bringing them back full force had been so unexpected that you’d reacted without thought. “We all make mistakes.”

“Breaking and entering, resisting and simple assault?” DUI and misdemeanor possession were mistakes that he could understand, but once you ventured out of the human nature category and into deliberate crimes, the tables started to turn for a person.

“They only stuck me on the breaking and entering. And it was pled down to a misdemeanor at that.” You weren’t proud of the charges, but there had been no getting off scot free. You’d found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time and had gotten involved with some people that didn’t have the best of intentions. It had been a huge reality check and since then you’d kept everything on the right side of the law… until you stepped foot back in Riverdale at least. “I’ve kept my nose clean since Hawaii.”

Having finally located the records you’d been asking about, Lonnie reluctantly tipped the thick file in your direction, his gorilla sized hands holding tight as you moved to pull it from his grasp. “This isn’t going to just magically make everything clear.”

“Just need to start somewhere.”

Relenting his hold, Lonnie couldn’t help but sigh as he secured the drawer again. Being an accessory to you getting involved in whatever business Beth had was not something he wanted on his conscience; no matter how capable you thought you were, no amount of time on the road could prepare you for the criminal workings that lived in Riverdale. “There are more hands at work in this town than there were when you left.”

“I’m starting to figure that out…” Tucking the folder securely under your arm, you started back towards the front door, anxious to dig into this new information. “Thanks for these. I owe you.”

“Watch your back, kid.”

“Always do.” Shooting Lonnie a thankful smile and nod, the bell above the door jingled as you made your way back onto the streets. Though it would still be a few hours before Lonnie’s services would be in high demand, the bars would start getting busy with the after work crowd and you wanted to make sure you were off the street before any more people from your past caught sight of you in town.

With a heavy heart, the big man watched as you climbed back into your Buick and motored towards the motel you were calling home; in the pit of his stomach he knew nothing good was going to come of this, the answers you thought Beth’s records were going to give you were only going to bring more questions and hurt feelings.

There was a steady flow of traffic filing in and out of the Wyrm by the time Sweet Pea got there; older members that were fixtures in the place, to the next generation of young up and comers that were just getting their first set of wheels, to the inbetweeners that had found a steady paycheck outside the daily gang workings, but had never been able to step away from the life… the inbetweeners like him.

Nodding towards a group of old timers that huddled around a joint at the front door, Sweet Pea stopped just inside to let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting and neon that flooded the room. Fangs was already settled in their regular spot at the bar, Jughead beside him nursing a beer but his blonde haired fiancé nowhere in sight; relief flooded his system as he made his way towards the guys, nodding respectfully to FP and a few other senior members who had congregated opposite the younger crowd. Sweet Pea didn’t have a problem with Betty, the perky blonde had been around since high school and he’d grown to accept her for what she was, but he was still trying to digest everything that had gone down in the last twenty-four hours and wasn’t in the mood for bright smiles and bouncing curls.

“Where’ve you been?”

The clock above the bar told him he wasn’t more than thirty minutes late, not really warranting the dramatics that Fangs was cooking up. “What are you, my mother?”

“No… but you’re late. You’re never late.” Signaling towards Duck, Fang’s ordered another round as Sweet Pea took up his normal stool beside him; the bomb that Sweet Pea dropped at lunch had consumed Fangs’ thoughts most of the day and he’d been itching to talk about it more with them. He figured that the four of them should get together, hash it out, clear the air and start fresh from here on out; they’d all been so close before that it only seemed natural that they pick up right where they left off.

“I got caught up at the garage.” Sweet Pea had figured the best way to chase you from his mind was to bury himself in an engine and he’d been pretty successful, by the time he’d looked up from the transmission he was reconstructing it was well past quitting time and he’d been the only one left in the shop. “Where is Topaz?”

“I dunno.” Since Toni had taken on real estate, Fangs had stopped trying to keep track of her comings and goings, she seemed to be running at all hours of day and all over the place to get things sold.

“I’m here, I’m here.” The hurried click of heels on worn linoleum had all three guys turning in their seat, their token female scurrying to take her normal seat between Jughead and Fangs. “Round is on me.” Gratefully snagging a bottle from Duck, not caring who it was supposed to go to, Toni took a deep pull from it as she tossed her card across the bar to start her tab. If the guys were riding on the same roller coaster that she was, one beer wasn’t going to begin to scratch the surface. “Sorry, I got caught up at a showing.”

“I thought you’re showing was right after lunch?” Tipping his bottle in thanks, Fangs did his best to recall what they’d talked about over pizza today; he was pretty sure he thought Toni said she was going to Centerville as soon as she left the garage, but he couldn’t be sure.

“I had to take care of something so I pushed it back to later this afternoon.”

Toni was one of the easiest of the group to read, she’d never been a good liar and guilt showed itself easily in her eyes; Sweet Pea should have known she’d be on the hunt as soon as she’d heard the news, the pink haired dynamite never able to let things sit long when you were involved. “You went and found her, didn’t you.”

“Maybe.”

“What the hell- am I now the only person that hasn’t seen Y/N yet?” Fang’s outburst brought the group to the center of the bar’s attention, FP paying particular attention at the mention of a girl who he was positive would have never returned.

“Y/N is back in town?” While Jughead hadn’t been particularly close with you, an inevitable friendliness had transpired throughout the years and he’d found himself at the receiving end of your rescuing more than once. Wherever Sweet Pea was, you never seemed to be far behind and Jughead hadn’t been able to find it in himself to dislike you, despite the hostile relationship that transpired between you and FP.

“Yeah, Sweet Pea caught her at the store the other night.” Though it wasn’t Jughead’s fault he was just hearing the news, Fang’s couldn’t help but impatiently wave him off before focusing back on Toni. Toni’s relationship with you was completely different than Sweet Pea’s and Fangs had much higher hopes in terms of what information she was able to pull from the meeting. “So what’d she say Toni?”

“Sweet Pea was right, she hasn’t changed much.” When Sweet Pea had told her you hadn’t changed she’d been hard pressed to believe it; a person on the road for as long as you were, living a questionable life was destined to change, but she’d been pleasantly surprised to see she’d been proven wrong. You’d looked healthy and your temper was as fast as ever, but for everything that hadn’t changed there were things that had. As she pulled away from the house she had chalked it up to exhaustion on your part, but the more she thought about it the more she realized you were just as guarded and untrusting of her being there as she was of you. It wasn’t until your mother got brought into the conversation that you seemed to liven up and that stung. She hadn’t been expected a bubbly or tearful reunion, but she had been hoping for something…more. More than what she got, anyways. “She was awfully curious about Beth’s jail stints…”

“Curious how?” You’d told Sweet Pea you were in town to tie up loose ends with your mother’s estate, and while he was no lawyer, he was pretty sure criminal record investigating what not required for estate closures.

“Curious enough that I think she was going to pay Lonnie a visit.” Toni and Sweet Pea locked eyes above Fangs’ head, both equally puzzled by your sudden interest in your mother’s past. You’d gone out of your way, even before you left Riverdale, to keep your hands out of Beth’s affairs and for you to now take an interest in what was going on struck them both as curious and a little concerning.

“She probably just wants some background is all. I mean, it’s not like she was on speaking terms with her mom. Maybe it’s just her way of getting closure.”

Despite Fangs’ positive spin on the information, Sweet Pea couldn’t bring himself to fully believe it. You weren’t the type of person to need closure on a relationship, especially one as toxic as the one you had with Beth. It was no secret to people on the Southside that Beth had been involved with one of the new crime bosses in town and Sweet Pea wouldn’t have put it past her to get sideways with them, simply because that was her nature. If what he assumed was true, you digging into her past would drop you in the middle of a hotbed of trouble and danger; sour feelings or not, Sweet Pea wasn’t going to be able to stand by and let you get caught up in a mess without backup.

From the other end of the bar, FP grimaced into his beer as the conversation about Beth and her progeny continued. Beth had always been a thorn in his side, sticky fingered and preferring to pay her debt in other means than cash, but harmless; her daughter, on the other hand, represented a bigger threat and he’d done what he needed to do to keep the balance. You were always a wild card in his eyes, never a member but always around, you had helped out when they had needed you the most, but your influence on his enforcer could have been seen as detrimental to the rest of the gang. It had been in everyone’s best interest to snuff you out before you got anymore involved. Being able to convince you that staying in town wasn’t what was best for Sweet Pea had been a feather in his hat four years ago, and the fact that those who had associated with you were flourishing after your departure only convinced FP more that his actions were justified. Your family was a drain on everyone around them, their gypsy ways causing strife and destruction everywhere they turned; he always knew you were a smart kid, it hadn’t taken much for you to pick up on exactly what he wanted from her those years ago, but from the sounds of it, you hadn’t been smart enough to stay gone and that was something he intended to rectify.


	6. Chapter 6

Glass clinked against glass as you tossed another empty bottle in trash beside the bed; two beers, four hours and a cup of ramen later and you’d finally decided you needed to step back from the file that was spread all over your bed. None of the information you’d read was much of a surprise, Beth had never hidden her less than stellar moments from you, but the sheer amount of less than stellar moments she’d had in her life was a lot to take in, even for a person who was expecting it. 

The picture the file painted was a bleak one, a life of chasing the next hit, making a quick buck and paying for the rent in any means necessary. It wasn’t a story that hadn’t been told a thousand times before, hell, there were shows dedicated to it; a person walking down the wrong path who eventually hits rock bottom and then would decide they’d want to keep themselves clean and off the street, but the effort it took to walk the straight and narrow would be too much and they inevitably would fall back into their old ways. It was just too bad Beth hadn’t been smart enough to cash in on her story.

You had to give Lonnie credit, his files were thorough. It didn’t just cover what he’d bonded Beth out on, which was considerable, it covered everything from the time she was eighteen to the last time he’d taken her call and even some records of when police had been called, but no arrests had been made. She’d been out on bond at the time of her death, a parole violation for drinking, but on the surface, nothing jumped out at you and screamed Russian mob. 

Unable, or more accurately unwilling, to face what lay deeper within the file you turned towards the bathroom hoping a hot shower would help ease the sour feeling the information was leaving in your stomach. Pausing for a moment in front of the small fridge, you reached for a third bottle before thinking better of it and hurried the rest of the way to the bathroom. It would be the easy way out, a page straight out of your family’s book, and you couldn’t afford that; you’d over done it last night with the whiskey and you wanted to have a clear head when you dove back into Lonnie’s records, so the shower beer would have to wait.

The hot water felt like heaven on your skin, what the flea bag digs lacked in class and sanitation it made up for in hot water and water pressure. As steam continued to fill the room, your mind continued to find its way back to Beth. Mother of the year she never was and you’d completely written her off by the time you were sixteen, but there had been moments where she hadn’t been a complete train wreck. She had earned a lot of the resentment that you harbored for her, somethings a person could never be forgiven for, but you could admit that there were times you looked at her through a harsher light than maybe she deserved.

It was easy to judge the actions of a person when they weren’t there to defend themselves, what came across as horrible parenting may have simply been what Beth needed to do at the time to make sure you had food in your stomach or a place to sleep for the night; looking at the file, it was a strong argument for some things. While her tendency for wandering had left you uprooted most of your youth, it had given you the opportunity to see a lot of places at an age when most kids rarely ventured from their state.

For every action that she may have made with the best of intentions, there were more that were made out of selfishness and stupidity. For every new town that you saw, there was usually a new jail house that she’d come crawling out of and a new fleabag motel to sleep in. You couldn’t count the number of places you’d stayed at that resembled the City Centre, the same shitty furnishings with the same sketchy residents and always in the same shitty parts of town. The only thing that seperated Riverdale from the rest of the small towns was it’s murder rate. 

Memories of drug deals gone bad and Beth going off with strange men mingled with flashes of shared ice cream cones at some small-town car hop and singing your guts out to the radio together as Beth flew down some deserted highway to the next town that called her name. Was the weight of one good memory the same as that of a bad one? Did one cancel the other out? If that was the case then yes, Beth was not a good parent, but she wasn’t a monster.

“Maybe you weren’t a monster, but you sure as hell weren’t a saint either…”

She’d quit the moving around for a little bit when you hit ten, the two of you finally settling in the family house and you, still naive to your mother’s broken promises, thought you could find some friends. It hadn’t taken long to fall in step with Sweet Pea, Fangs and Toni; the youthfulness of childhood had them welcoming you with open arms and you had jumped in feet first, not worrying to test the waters, just so excited to finally have people your own age to hang with. The domestic bliss had lasted a whopping nine months before she loaded you up again and you were off to parts unknown. But the friendship had sustained, every time you’d be back in town you would pick up right where you left off as if you had never been gone.

The four of you had shared a lot of your first together, drank you first beers, smoked your first cigarettes…and joints, shared your first heartbreaks. You had been there when each of them had earned their jackets and they had been there when you had finally had enough of the moving and watched your mother leave that last time.

A sudden change in water temperature halted you on the tracks down memory lane, the water now leaving a prickling of goose flesh along your skin where red welts from the heat had just been. You let yourself linger for a moment, hoping the cold water would chase away the fog from the past, before jumping from the shower. The aged pipes rattled in the wall as the water cut off, the too small towel you wrapped around yourself doing nothing to warm your now chilled skin. 

What was it with hotel towels and being at least one size to small, has no one ever heard of bath sheets for Christ sake? You made a mental note to buy a set of towels at the store in Centerville next time you headed that direction, and maybe a pillow or two that weren’t lumpy and used by god knows how many people might not be a bad idea either. You understood that beggars couldn’t be choosers when it came to the motel life, but you could at least provide yourself a few comforts if you were going to be stuck here, and from the looks of it, all signs pointed to that being the case.

You shared a chuckle with yourself as you caught sight of the old duffle you tossed in the corner, it was the same one that you’d left Riverdale with originally. The years had been hard on it, the canvas fabric was beginning to fray around the zipper and the handles seeming to barely hanging on by a thread. There were at least a dozen holes patched with whatever fabric you could find and you didn’t want to begin to think about what some of the stains were, but the old bag had seen as many miles as you had and you couldn’t bring yourself to part with it despite its condition.

You’d packed for comfort and utility on this trip, your usual work attire of little black dress and pumps left behind in exchange for jeans and t-shirts and a trusty pair of motorcycle boots. Along with the little black dresses, you’d left behind almost all of your jewelry, not seeing the point of donning more than the basics, so when your hand wrapped around a petite chain at the bottom of your bag you were a little more than confused.

You couldn’t help the slight tremor that took over your hand as the mysterious piece of jewelry came into view, a delicate snake charm that seemed to shimmer even in the glow of the aged lighting. Despite the type of creature that hung at the end of the chain, it was nothing but feminine; small diamonds decorated its back, its figure shaped into an artful coil that would allow it to lay flush against the wearer’s chest. An unsuspecting eye wouldn’t take much notice of it, assuming it was just another piece of jewelry that accented an outfit wonderfully, but it’s meaning would be known to those who mattered the most.

It had a been a gift from Sweet Pea, one that you hadn’t seen in years. He’d given it to you the fall after high school graduation, when he’d finally started at the shop full time and you were working at the hospital. It was the night you guys had made all the big plans, plans about the future, about the family you wanted, the life you were going to create together. It hadn’t been a proposal, but a promise. A promise that the two of you were it. You’d worn it like it was a piece of you from that day forward; even after all the fighting and arguments, the weight of the delicate charm would remind you that the two of you could get through it.

You’d meant to leave it on the table the night you’d left, a gesture to tell Sweet Pea that he wasn’t held to any promises, but something had prevented you from parting with it. You can’t say just what that was, but when you’d left your phone on the table and reached to break the chain from your neck you hadn’t been able to leave it. So it went with you. You’d worn in for months, sometimes almost letting yourself believe that when you got back things would pick up just as you’d left them, like they had when you were a kid, but reality came crashing down in Hawaii.

There was no going back after Hawaii. Your time on the big island proved that you were not the same person that left Riverdale, that there was no going back to the person you thought you were and you couldn’t hang onto the hope that you’d be able to go back and pick up where you left off. You could have sworn you’d thrown the necklace off a boat pier one night, fresh out on bond and drunker than a skunk you’d wanted to get rid of the last thing you had tying you to Riverdale. 

If you concentrated enough you could almost play that night back in your memory like a movie; the music had been loud and the smell of late night fried food mingled with the scent of the ocean below you. There was a breeze and someone was yelling something to you from the door…

A heavy pounding on your door snapped you back to reality, your heart racing as you tossed the necklace onto the bed and hurriedly searched for a clean pair of pants. “Wait a second!” Who the hell would be knocking at this hour?

Still buttoning up the old flannel you’d grabbed as you checked the peep hole, your blood ran cold as the face on the other side came into view. You’d come back to the motel thinking you were safe from the past for the rest of the night, but damned if the hits kept on coming.

Waiting a moment to let your heart rate settle before wrenching open the door, you greeted FP Jones with the coldest look you could muster. “Can I help you?”

The senior Serpent almost seemed to deflate when his eyes met yours, disappointed that the chatter he’d overheard tonight had been confirmed. “I’d been hoping I heard the kids wrong at the bar tonight…”

Not really wanting FP to see the array of paper spread all over the bed, you stepped out of the doorway and into the evening, being sure to flip the lock out to prevent the door from fully closing behind you. “How’d you find me, FP.”

“It’s not like there are a lot of places in Riverdale for you to hide out.” Your sudden exit from the room forced FP to take a few steps back, his dark gaze seeming to take its time taking in the subtle changes that had taken place over the past four years. “Besides, a couple of my guys live here. Didn’t take much for them to confirm it was you driving that beater.”

“Did you just come by to insult my car, or was there a more pressing matter?”

If looks could kill, FP would be dead where he stood. They say time heals all wounds, but it was obvious that time was not something that would repair whatever semblance of a relationship there had been between the two of you before that fateful night. “What are you doing back here?”

The Serpents were proving to be the worst group of gossipers you’d ever run into. At this rate you might as well take out a giant billboard explaining your entire situation. “Christ… can’t you guys forward on information to each other so I don’t have to explain myself every time one of you decides to invite yourself back into my life?”

“I’m not here for whatever story you’ve cooked up for everyone else. I want the truth.” It not like FP could have just walked up to Sweet Pea and ask him exactly what you said. Everyone in that group thought you’d left on your own accord and him poking around would only start raising suspension.

“The truth is exactly what I’ve been telling everyone. I’m tying up loose ends with Beth’s estate. Listing the house, selling the shit in it, whatever else goes along with that…” Omitting the entire story when asked did not constitute a lie in your book.

You may be able to pull the wool over on most people, but FP had been around the block with your family more than once and knew better than to take you at your word. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“What the hell does that mean.” Something about FP’s tone made the hair on the back of your neck stand up, the insinuation was there but you wanted to hear him say it.

“You’re just like your mother.”

You took a step back as if what FP said physically hit you, the suggestion that you and Beth were cut from the same cloth sending your blood pressure into overdrive. “I am nothing like her.”

“You’ve been lying to every person you ran into since you got back here, if that isn’t a card out of Beth’s deck I don’t know what is.”

“I’m not lying.” Your words were barely audible through your clenched teeth, the muscles of your jaw jumping as you did your best to maintain the little control you had. Coming off the handle for everyone around you to hear was the best way to draw unwanted attention; the less people heard from you the easier it would be to slip in and out of the motel without people noticing.

There was something about him that always seemed to get your hackles up and FP would be remiss if he didn’t start the meeting the way he had every other time he interacted with you, for traditions sake. “I shouldn’t have had to come over here at all.” 

“Not sure why you felt the need to. I would have been more than happy to get through this without seeing your face.” Nothing you had said to Sweet Pea or to Toni should have triggered any sort of concern in FP, unless of course the eldest Jones knew more than he was letting on. 

“I always took you as a smart kid, figured the conversation we had a while back made my feelings about you pretty clear.”

FP had been making his opinion about you clear as day from the moment you stepped into the Wyrm trailing behind Sweet Pea, his opinion of you low, but you’d paid very little notice to him. You tolerated him, just as he tolerated you, for the sake of Sweet Pea, but now that the tables had turned you saw not point in faking any sort of civility anymore.

Movement at the far end of the lot caught your attention, the Serpents that FP had talked about earlier were pulling up to their rooms after, what you assumed, was a night of drinking;  swerving a little and laughing amongst themselves, they hesitated for a moment when they caught sight of FP, only moving on after his subtle nod of acknowledgment.

You waited until the telltale sound of slamming room doors echoed down the open corridor, confident that this conversation would remain between the two of you. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t get to have a say in who comes and goes from the Southside.” There may have been a time where FP was top dog on the Southside, but those times were long gone. “I mean… you aren’t in charge of the Serpents anymore. You handed that gig over to your beanie wearing offspring, didn’t you?”

He couldn’t help but bristle at your accusatory tone; handing off control of the Serpents to his son had always been something he’d regretted, and while they still consulted with him before acting, and he could pull the strings, at the end of the day he wasn’t the face of the gang and couldn’t officially act on anything. “There are some things that Jughead doesn’t need to get involved in.”

“I don’t recall getting any of you involved.” It was a never ending merry go round with him; not once had you deliberately involved a single soul. Well, you involved Lonnie, but not really and he wasn’t a Serpent so FP shouldn’t give a flip about that.

“Your people have been involving us ever since you step foot in this town.”

He said ‘your people’ as if you had a choice of who your family was, as if you had any control over your mother’s business affairs. He was the second person today to insinuate you were responsible for shit your mother did and frankly, you were tired of it. “You’ve been inviting yourself into my affairs, FP. Not the other way around.”

“I have to invite myself in to protect them. If I don’t stand in the way, it won’t be long before you sink your claws into anyone who passes by.”

“I haven’t involved a single person since I got here!” How many times were you going to have to say it before he got it through his pickled brain. You were starting to think the years of drinking had done more damage than you thought possible.

“And I’m here to make sure it stays that way.” There was an edge of warning to his tone as the two of you leveled each other with a look, neither one willing to back down.

“So, what? This was a warning?” If things were different and you really were here just to sell a house, you’d be sauntering your ass through the Wyrm just on principle. FP Jones was no one to you, he could threaten whatever he wanted, but that didn’t mean you had to listen to him.

“Keep away from the Serpents. Whatever the relationship you had with them before, it isn’t there anymore.”

No matter the truth of his words, they still stung. There was only the past between you and them and you were going to make sure there wasn’t any hope for the future. “Maybe I’m not the person to be having this conversation with.”

“You are exactly the person I need to have this conversation with.” Sweet Pea was a stubborn guy, but the pull you had on him wasn’t one that could be doused easily, even after how it ended between the two of you. Given enough time you would inevitably draw him back in and only get him into trouble. While FP might not be able to step in to stop his enforcer, he sure as hell could step in and stop you.

Something about this meeting was making you itch, FP was far too concerned about who you’ve been talking to and what you’ve been doing to just be looking out for the Serpents. “What do you know?”

“I don’t know anything.”

“Obviously you do, FP.” He may not be the leader of the Serpents, but there was no way FP Jones would let anything go down on the Southside without at least knowing about it. Jughead may be the the face, but FP could still pull the strings. “If you didn’t know anything you wouldn’t be concerned about…” You almost slipped and called them your friends, “your people hanging around with me.”

“All I know is that you went to talk to Lonnie about Beth. Whatever you’re looking into isn’t going to have a happy ending.” Beth destroyed things like a tornado in Oklahoma, anything she got involved in was bound to end in disaster. “What you put yourself through is your own business, but I won’t let this touch them.”

“This isn’t going to touch them.” FP’s words were almost an exact echo of what Lonnie had said earlier. The last thing you wanted was for whatever mess you wound up in with these Russian to come near anyone that wasn’t involved. No matter how things ended between you all, you had never wish ill of any of them. More than anything you wanted them to move on without you and go somewhere. Do something. Get out of the crappy web you had weaved them into and make something honest of themselves. Pulling them back in would undo what you’d originally set out to do.

FP made a move towards his bike, turning back to you as one last thought came to him. “They’ve done well without you, why ruin it by coming back.”

You knew he’d only said it to get under your skin, to drive home facts that you had already accepted for yourself, but that didn’t stop the color from rising in your cheeks and from your lip to curl. “I’ll be gone soon enough and everything will go back to what is was.”

“The sooner the better.” He knew it was a low blow, an unneeded comment, but if it was an extra nail in the coffin then he’d make it a thousand times more if he needed to.

Not bothering to wait for FP to walk back to his bike, you turned on your heel and slammed the door with more force than necessary and locked the deadbolt for good measure. As if that extra lock could protect you from what FP had thrown at you. It took some balls for him to come all the way over here and issue veiled threats about getting anyone from the Serpents involved, acting like he knew what you were doing was shady, when he had a hand in more Southside crimes than anyone you knew. This was a man who had a hand in the murder of a teenager for Christ sake. 

Skipping the beer you’d talked yourself out of earlier and going straight for the half empty whiskey bottle, you had just popped the top on when the burner phone you’d left on the table started to vibrate. When he’d said that they would be in touch, you had figured he meant in a week… not less than twelve hours.

Hesitating for a moment, not sure if you really wanted to go down this road, you hit the answer button and put the bottle back where it belonged, whiskey no longer on the evening agenda. Before you could get out a greeting, a man with a thick accent rambled off directions for a pick up point and strict instructions for delivery into Greendale. Pickup and delivery… sounded easy enough. People did it all the time for other companies, doing it with drugs couldn’t be much different than delivering beer. The line clicked off again before you could ask any questions, eyes staring blankly at the dark screen before shoving it into the back pocket of your jeans; snatching the address you had hastily written down and grabbing your keys, you slipped into your boots and headed for the Buick.

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

You should have known this was coming, it really was just a matter of time. You’d been limping along the beater of a car since you bought it with little more than oil changes, new to you tires and a battery you got on sale at NAPA, so when the stupid thing sputtered and died on you first thing this morning you couldn’t act surprised.

Your new-found Russian friends had kept you hopping over the last week, five runs in the past seven days, the strain had inevitably been too much on the car. The worst of it was that it appeared that you’d be continuing to provide your services because you were no closer to figuring out how to get yourself out of the hole your mother had left you in.

Unable to function without caffeine and with the car out of commission, you had to resort to the swill the night manager had brewed in the motel office while you waited for the tow truck to show up.  Not wanting to hang around in your room a moment longer and in desperate need of a cigarette you lounged on top of the Buicks hood as you mulled over what you’d figured out about your new employers.

The business ran like a well-oiled machine; you showed up, they loaded the car, they gave you a drop off point and they’d disappear back from where they came. There was no casual conversation, no questions ask, and no discussion about what you were carrying. Your times of day were varied, the size of the delivers were never the same, but pick up was always behind the coffee shop. The drop offs were all over the place too, an old warehouses were Serpents used to run, two behind upstanding businesses on the northside, in the back of bar parking lot in Centerville, and two just on the other side of the Greendale county line. Who you were dropping off to was as varied as the locations, you’d had women that looked like stay at home moms in yoga pants to gang members to strung out college kids.

You weren’t sure what you could do with all this information, it wasn’t like you could go to the sheriff’s department, admit you’re running illegal drugs for the Russian mob and walk away scot free. Whatever you did would have be just as illegal as the job you were running. That, or just work till it’s paid off and hope to god the Riverdale Sheriff’s department is still as incompetent as ever. The biggest problem with that was you didn’t when the debt would be paid off, it wasn’t like Ioann gave you a pay schedule; he could work you for months and still claim the debt wasn’t clear and you had no intention of spending months in Riverdale.

“Got a call that someone needed a tow.”

“That’d be me.” You were relieved when that the tow truck driver wasn’t a face you recognized. With exception of Lonnie, who you’d joined for a beer at his office twice since you’d returned, you had managed to avoid the rest of the familiar faces. FP’s veiled threats from last week meant nothing to you, he was a lot of talk and little action, but you had figured it was better to not add fuel to the fire, all the same.

“Got some car trouble?”

“No… just figured the Buick wanted a break from driving everywhere all the time.” The sarcastic retort came flying out if your mouth before your brain had time to filter it. Along with control of your temper, your ability to think before speaking must have left you when you crossed over the Riverdale town line.

Marty, if the name on his shirt was right, did not seem to be impressed by your sense of humor and just returned back to his truck. You figured this wasn’t the most glamorous of jobs, spending most of your day picking up junkers and repoing when people got behind on their bills, but there were surely worse jobs to have. The guy could have at least cracked a smile.

Sliding from the hood, you tossed the half drank coffee swill in your hotel room trash, eyes darting to the neatly piled files on the yardsale special table. You’d made some progress on the files, but not as much as you had hopped. Every time you turned to a new arrest you found yourself falling down the rabbit hole of secondary details, as if trying to relive the event through a fresh set of eyes, and it was making it near impossible for you to get into the nitty gritty of what you needed. You weren’t sure if it was your way of trying to justify the life Beth lived or if you were just nosey, but you did your best not to dwell too much on an underlying meaning.

Slipping on a pair of dollar store special sunglasses and grabbing your purse, you double checked that the do not disturb placard was still on the handle and that the door locked behind you before sliding up beside the driver has he secured the chains to your car. The last thing you needed was house keeping getting nosey and poking through your stuff.  

“Got a particular garage you want me to take it?”

“Just somewhere that is affordable and won’t fuck me over.” Car savvy you were not, but you knew enough to know when you were being taken advantage of.  You just needed the thing fixed and the cheaper it was, the better.

“I know a place.”

The hum in the garage was steady, the impact wrench was running almost constantly as the guys changed out tires, tools clanked against the concrete near a fuel pump replacement, phones ringing in the lobby could be heard between the intermittent lull of machines as Layla manned the front for customers, and it was all music to Sweet Pea’s ears.

He’d put all his eggs in one basket when he’d bought the place; with no business experience at the time, the only thing that was going for him was that he had worked at the garage for a enough years and knew the basics of the book work. Carl had run the dump for years and he was still able to open the doors every day, so Sweet Pea figured he at least had a chance at making it successful.

Two years and a couple night business classes later and the little dumpy garage he’d bought had turned into one of the best in Riverdale. The clientele was no longer just Serpents and low rent district Southsiders, he was now catering to a good portion of the Northside and even starting to pick up contracts with a few of the local business for their fleet maintenance. It was, by all accounts, his biggest success to date.

“Sweet Pea, tow truck driver just called. We’ve got one coming in.”

Wiping his hands on a rag, Sweet Pea stepped away from the custom bike job he’d been buried in all morning just as Art came strolling up. He liked Art, good worker and been there even longer than Sweet Pea, he was the one guy Sweet Pea had on staff who was as reliable as the sun and had turned into a genuine friend over the years. “What is it?”

“Buick. Won’t start. Lady doesn’t know why.”

“Ok, put it in the far bay.” He had half a parking lot full of vehicles that didn’t start, some waiting on parts and other waiting on payment, but hopefully this out would be a quick fix with a good check attached to it.

“There aren’t any other garages that can fix it?” Standing in front of the open bay, you couldn’t help but glare at Marty as he lowered your car. There had to be at least half a dozen garages in town, why did it have to be this one.

“You said affordable and good. This is the only place that is both.”

Sweet Pea’s stomach felt like it dropped ten floors at the sounds of a familiar voice yelling over the impact wrench, the muscles of his jaw tightening as he caught sight of you. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Of all the shit Buicks in this town, yours had to be the one.

“You know her?” Art hadn’t missed the way his boss had tensed when he’d caught sight of you. It was obvious that there was a history there, but how much of one he didn’t know.

“You could say that…” Did he know you… he knew more about you than any two people who were not involved should know and no matter what he tried, he couldn’t seem to forget it.

Art couldn’t make out what you were saying, but your hurried footsteps to follow Marty to the front and though the sunglasses covered your eyes, he could feel the irritation in the look you shot them. Art knew almost everyone in town and though he didn’t recognize you,  it didn’t take much to figure out you were not going to be an easy customer. “She looks like a handful.”

“That’s an understatement.”

Art couldn’t help but chuckle at the look of dread that seemed to take over Sweet Pea’s features. There was obviously more to the story than his boss was letting on, but he didn’t want to pry. Art wasn’t particularly social with customers, usually preferring to hide under the hood of a car than argue with the owner, but he was willing to make an exception for you. Especially if that look had sass to go with it, he’d always enjoyed a challenging woman. “Want me to take care of it?”

“No, I need you to watch the kid on the fuel pump replacement. It’ll need a new relay system too and I don’t think he’s thought to check that.” Sweet Pea hadn’t missed the way Art’s eyes had lingered on you, the idea that he was willing to tango with you almost laughable. The guy was a good worker, the rest of the employees respected him and Sweet Pea trusted him unconditionally, but you would chew him up and spit him out before he could get a word in edgewise. No, this was a fix he was better off dealing with in person.

“You’re the boss.” Giving Sweet Pea’s shoulder a slap of support, Art wandered off to babysit the new kid. If Sweet Pea wanted to take this on, more power to him, but Art was sure as hell going to get a good seat to watch it unfold.

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t…” It was hard to miss Art’s hearty chuckle, even with the roar in the garage; the man seeming to enjoy the difficult position that Sweet Pea found himself in. He couldn’t, in good conscious, turn away the work since business was business, but he couldn’t help but wish Marty was a little less loyal in this particular instance. Steeling up the last of his nerves, Sweet Pea approached the truck just as you were signing off for the tow, your lips set in a grim line as you glanced his direction and handed over the clipboard. “Thanks Marty, appreciate the business.”

“You guys deserve it. Best garage in town.”

Sweet Pea appreciated the compliment; he’d worked hard for that reputation and only recently had it started paying off. Giving Marty a final wave as the truck pulled out, Sweet Pea turned his attention on you, his reflection looking back at him from your mirrored lenses. “So, what’s the problem.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You knew your car was the last one that Sweet Pea would want to work on and despite his excellent skills when it came to engines, you didn’t really want him working on it either. Being back in this garage, with him… there were too many memories from this place. It had the chance of stirring up old feelings and the water between you two was already murky. There was no point in making it worse.

“Do what?”

“Work on it. I can have to towed to another garage. I know there is one…”

“It’s not a big deal.” Waving off your concern, Sweet Pea focused his attention on the vehicle. It was old, no doubt about that, but seemed to be in good condition. The paint was worn, a few dents from hail dimpled the roof and the seats were wearing thin from years of use but the inside was clean and when he popped the hood most things seemed to be in good shape considering the age. “What’s wrong with it?”

As soon as he had popped the hood you knew the argument was done, the next best option what that it was a simple fix and you could be out of the garage in an hour and on your way to Greendale for the pillow and towels you had yet to buy. The hostility that had been there last week was no longer, he’d either come to terms with you being in town and had believed your story or FP had gotten a hold of him and had already warned him off you. Either way, at long as he got the car fixed you didn’t care. “Won’t start.”

“Is there fuel in it?” Sweet Pea couldn’t help himself from poking fun at an old joke, the memory of it forcing him to stifle a chuckle as recognition filtered across your features.

You would have reached over and smacked him for bringing that up if you hadn’t been so surprised that he had remembered. “Of course there is!” You forget to fuel up the car one time and you can never live it down.

“Did you leave the lights on?”

“No.”

Always the skeptic, especially when talking to a person who forgot to fuel up a car, Sweet Pea looked around the hood, hoping he could still read you well enough to see if you were lying. “You’re sure.”

“Trust me, I would have known if the lights were left on.” Shifting your weight from one hip to the other, you couldn’t help the irritation that laced your voice. If the Buick’s lights had been left on they would have shown right into your room; there may have been a lot going on, but some things you would realize no matter how preoccupied you were.

“How old is the battery?” It didn’t look brand new, but the cell connectors didn’t look corroded and the cables seemed to be in good order. You seemed to have improved your car care skills since you’d left, the impala you had been driving before you hightailed it out of town was now at the back of Sweet Pea’s lot, only good for parts at this point because of your lack of concern for oil changes.

“I just replaced it a few months ago.” The guy at the parts store had promised you that it was good and should last you, despite it being gently used. Having already planned on driving up here by that point and rent due, you hadn’t had the funds for a brand new one.

“Has it been running ok? No weird sounds.” Attention jumping from the battery to the corroded looking alternator, Sweet Pea grimaced. The part had seen better days and it appeared that the wire fraying from the fuse terminal. It would be an easy enough fix, but not the cheapest and take a couple of hours.

“Ok enough.” Catching sight of a few feathers sticking out of the grill, you just shrugged. It hadn’t been a smooth running vehicle since you bought it, but it kept running despite the bird kills and half assed maintenance so you didn’t complain.

“Enough?”

Frustrated, you slipped your sunglasses on top of your head before meeting Sweet Pea’s questioning look. You could tell by looking at the damn thing that it wasn’t a top shelf vehicle. “It’s an old car, Sweet Pea. It runs as well as an old car can. The headlights flicker, the radio sucks, it sucks gas like a boat, but it runs.”

Wiping his hands on a rag, Sweet Pea nodded before stepping out from under the hood. He knew what it felt like to be at the mercy of crummy cars and not being able to dig yourself out from under them. He had been hoping that you would have been able to get out of it like he had, but that didn’t seem to be the case. “It’s probably your alternator.”

“Of course it is.” Numbers started running through your head as you tried to mentally budget out what this would cost. You had money set aside, a nice nest egg really, but you hadn’t wanted to touch it if possible. You’d budgeted out enough for three months in Riverdale and a new alternator and labor would eat up at least two weeks’ worth of hotel rent and it wasn’t like your new job was paying you anything, but without the car you couldn’t get the Russians handled so you were out of options.

You had a habit of biting your lower lip when you were focusing, Sweet Pea picking up on it again as he could almost see the numbers running above your head. “It’s not a big deal. The parts store will have it on hand and it’ll take a couple hours to change it out.” He didn’t know you financial situation, didn’t want to know, but he’d get the car fixed for you as cost if he had to; try as he might he couldn’t get rid of the soft spot he still had for you and he wasn’t going to let you put yourself in straights for a cheap fix like this.

Sweet Pea had hoped that you’d be like most of his customers and wander off while he did the repairs, at least hang out in the lobby and read the old magazines Layla kept stocked, but except for your brief absence when you’d gone in search of coffee, he’d had to deal with your presence all morning. It wasn’t that you were being a pain, you’d found a seat on a stack of tires and just watched him work, but just you being there was keeping him on edge.

There had been a time where he had loved having you here, him buried under the hood of the car while you kept a running commentary on what was going on in town or just singing to the radio that was always on. But this wasn’t that time, you weren’t chatting or singing and he wasn’t loving having you back in his garage. He had to stop trying to live in the past.

“Thank you for… fixing it for me.” If uncomfortable awkwardness was visible, you wouldn’t be able to see Sweet Pea from where you were perched. Neither of you wanted to be here, there was too much history and hurt between the two of you, but there was no getting out of it at this point and you were hoping simple conversation might chase away some of the tension that was feeding the uncomfortable silence.

“Just doing my job.” He felt like an ass for brushing aside your thanks, it was obvious that you were trying to make the best of a crappy situation and he should try and play ball, for no other reason than making the rest of this project go faster. “Are you getting the house stuff sorted out?”

“Oh… uh, yeah.” Though it looked like it physically pained him to make the effort, you appreciated it all the same. “It actually in better shape than I thought it would be.”

“I know Fangs did some work for her. Minor updates and stuff…”

Fangs had always had a soft heart, even for people who didn’t deserve it, so it was no surprise to hear he’d helped out Beth. “I’ll have to thank him.”

Sweet Pea never remembered it being this difficult to carry on a conversation with you, most of the time struggling to get a word in edgewise over your constant running commentary, and now he found himself having to carry the weight. He wasn’t quite sure how to maneuver that, especially when he wasn’t sure what topics were safe.

“Toni said you’re based in New Orleans at the moment.” The pink haired women had said very little the other night about the casual conversation they’d had, far more concerned about your interest in Lonnie’s work, but she’d dropped a few tidbits and he was grateful he’d retained them.

“Yeah… I’m cocktailing down in the French Quarter.” It sounded inadequate when you said it out loud, still living a life that relied on tips when everyone else seemed to have moved up and on to bigger and better things.

Wrench slipping as he tightened a bolt, Sweet Pea cussed under his breath, knuckle scraping against rough metal. He didn’t miss the way you’d said it, as if it was an embarrassment to admit what you were doing. “Like down where they do that big Mardi Gras celebration and stuff?”

“I’m like a block or two off of Bourbon Street, more candle light and linen tablecloths than beads for boobs, but yeah… in the same area.”

“What happened to nursing school?” All you had even talked about since he’d first met you was how you wanted to be a nurse, you’d been a damn candy striper at Riverdale General for god sake, and now to hear you weren’t one was hard to fathom.

“It….didn’t pan out.” The words were heavy on your tongue, admitting failure was not something you were good at and your nursing school failure would forever be a sore spot. You had tried, a few online courses here and there, but in the end it hadn’t worked out and you’d shelved the dream along with a few others.

“You like it?” Applying the last turn of the wrench, Sweet Pea stepped back as he surveyed his completed work.  Dark eyes glancing your way as he put his wrench back in the tool box, it had taken longer for the part to get here than it had to change it out, but the job was done. Slamming the hood, Sweet Pea settled against it, his full attention now on you. “In New Orleans?”

“Yeah. I mean, the summer was miserable but it’s better than North Dakota or Texas.” While not all of Louisiana was pristine real estate, New Orleans had proven to be a good place to settle for a while.

“How many states have you lived in?”

Tension gone as the conversation finally moved forward, you offered Sweet Pea a coy grin. “Enough.” You’d lived in a lot of places, driven through even more, but it wasn’t something you got enjoyment talking about. You’d been all these places chasing something you still couldn’t name and having to admit that you hadn’t found it in any of them wasn’t something you were proud of.

“Are you happy?” Sweet Pea was as surprised as you looked once he’d asked the question. He’d been wondering that since he’d first saw you, wondering if even though things between the two of you hadn’t panned out that you’d found something that had made you happy when he obviously couldn’t, but had never thought about asking that.

“I’m…content.” Afraid anymore comment on the subject would encourage Sweet Pea to dig further, you jumped from your spot and took a turn around the small bay you were situated in. “It looks like you’ve done really well. When did you take over the shop?”

Never subtle with what you were wanting, Sweet Pea got the hint that you were not going to entertain any more questions that could make the two of you cross a line back into what you had been. “Two years ago.”

“It’s a big improvement from what Carl had going.”

He couldn’t help but smile with pride, this garage was everything to him and he appreciated that you recognized the improvements that had been made. It meant more to him than he’d like to admit. “Took a lot of footwork to get a bank to go with me, but it has panned out well.”

“Toni was looking pretty spiffy when she cornered me the other day… guessing she isn’t slinging beers anymore?”

“No, just houses.” Clarifying when you just looked at him, Sweet Pea grinned as he remembered back to Toni’s last shift behind the bar. “Real Estate.”

“And Fangs?” He obviously was doing some renovation work if he was helping Beth, but whether it was full time or just a hobby on the side you didn’t know.

“Construction. Site Foreman for Andrews Construction and flipping houses on the side.” Between Fangs and Toni, the Southside was slowly moving up in the world of habitable houses. Maye one of these days he’d even bite the bullet and move into one of them.

“So it’s not just you then… you’ve all done really well.” It was a relief to hear no one had fallen into bad times since you’ve let, that everyone had rose above what little people in high school had expected of them.

“Jughead is still dicking around with that writer bullshit, but for the most part, yeah. We’ve all done well.”

A hiccupping laugh was muffled by the whirl of the impact wrench, but you caught the lift of Sweet Pea’s lips. After all these years it was nice to know that Sweet Pea hadn’t given up dragging Jughead down a little just out of shear entertainment. “I’m glad.”

The weight of your guilt seemed to lessen a fraction, the fact that they’d all accomplished something great since your departure told you that you’d done the right thing, no matter how selfish it may have appeared, at least they were moving up in the world.

You hadn’t realized Sweet Pea had moved from the Buick until he was standing right in front of you, the smell of oil and a spice that was uniquely him overtaking your senses and sending heat through your cheeks as you looked up to meet his eyes.

“You should come by the Wyrm tonight.” He didn’t know why he’d said it, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t encourage this, but after spending the last two and a half hours around you he couldn’t stop the nostalgia for their past from creeping in. There had been some great times at the bar, for all of you, and that didn’t mean there couldn’t be some again. He knew you weren’t staying, god knows he didn’t want you too, but maybe if you left town on a better note than you had last time everyone could get the closure they were needing.

“I don’t think that would be a great idea.” Overwhelmed by the sudden flood of memories and emotions Sweet Pea’s offer brought up you shuffled back a few feet, eyes focusing on his boot clad feet instead of those dark eyes that could easily pull you in.

Not willing to take no for an answer, Sweet Pea changed tactics. The waters between the two of you were still choppy, but your relationship with the others was different. Calmer. “Fangs wants to see you. And I’m sure Toni can offer some home seller advice.”

“Me being there isn’t cause any heartburn?” He’d gone right for the gut at the mention of Fangs. Sweet Pea hadn’t seemed to forget that you’d had a soft spot for Fogarty, his bright smiles and comic relief the quickest way to soften your sometimes cold nature, and he didn’t seem to be above exploiting it.

“For who?” Fangs had been pushing to get you to the Wyrm since you got here, Toni had already seen you once and Jughead was indifferent to…everything it seemed, but you were obviously concerned about someone seeing you there.

“No one….” Figuring it was better to let sleeping dogs lie, you did your best to wave off your concerns. If FP had a problem with you showing up, he could bring it up with Sweet Pea. “I guess I can swing by later.”

“Everyone usually shows up a little after five” Figuring you’d stroll in later that that, Sweet Pea knew that he’d have time to warn Toni and Fangs before you showed up. Despite his calm outward appearance, Sweet Pea couldn’t stop the nerves from flipping his stomach over; you’d never been a Serpent, but always around, he knew that some of the older members had taken offense to your sudden disappearance without explanation and he could only hope that the bar was busy enough that you’d be able to avoid too many questioning eyes.

“What do I owe you?”

“I’ll drop the bill by the front desk at the motel.” Dangling the keys in front of your face, Sweet Pea couldn’t help but grin as a flush worked its way up your neck, a confirmation that he’d been right about where you were staying.

Snatching the keys from Sweet Pea’s grasp, you turned on your heel as he chuckled at your quick exit. Apparently, there was no point in trying to keep where you were staying a secret anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is here! Appreciate the support on this one! Updates on this one I think are going to be on Mondays, but not every week. Hopefully every other week until I get Set It Up finished up.


	8. Chapter 8

Faded overhang with the letters barely legible, blinking neon sign advertising domestic beer and a collection of aged smokers hanging around the front entrance, the Wyrm was in the same shape as when you had left. You weren’t particularly surprised, once a dive bar always a dive bar, but at the least the place was still standing, afterall, you could remember a time when it had been in worse shape.

It had taken money, some questionable deal making and violence, but Dottie Walker had almost single handedly taken back the Wyrm from the grips of the Lodge crime family and the Ghoulies and given the Serpents back their home. Everyone had chipped in the clean up the inside, excited to have a place to celebrate after they walked across the stage, but the outside hadn’t fared as well as money got short. You could tell that the main doors had gotten a fresh coat of paint since you’d last seen them and the window that had been broken out had been replaced, but the bar still looked tired.

Knocking ash off your cigarette, you took a deep drag as a couple high schoolers greeted the smokers before disappearing through the main doors; Serpents were still taking on members and it didn’t look like the recruitment strategy had changed much from when Sweet Pea had joined, which lead you to believe they still had their hands involved in things that were not all above board. If that was the case then someone, hopefully someone you knew, might have some insight into just what Beth had planned to do with the drugs she’d supposedly stolen. Your mom may not have been a Serpent, but she’d been known to buy a dime bag on occasion or offer an evening of entertainment to some of the guys to try and get money towards the bills and you would bet one of them caught wind of something.

Criminals knew what other criminals were up to, Riverdale was too small off a town not to, and if you were going to endure an evening living in the past you might as well try and get some answers for your own case. Now you just needed to muster up the courage to climb out of the car and walk in there.

“What time is she coming?”

Sweet Pea glanced at Fangs out of the corner of his eye before focusing back on the baseball ball game playing above the bar. “I dunno.”

“What time did you tell her.” Sans Jughead, who could care less, Fangs was the only one from their group that hadn’t seen you yet and the anticipation was eating at him. The past was of little concern to him, he was more interested in moving ahead than looking back. You’d been gone a while and he just wanted to catch up with all that you’d been doing and move forward with the friendship.

“Sometime after five.” He’d given you the offer, you knew the time, but whether you actually followed through on the invite was on you. The conversation at the garage may have been civil and more relaxed than Sweet Pea would have imagined, but he didn’t know what was going on in that head of yours so there was no way to say for sure that you’d actually show up.

“It’s almost six.”

“Would you calm down, Fangs.” He had been on high alert since they’d all sat down for a drink and Toni was finding it increasingly difficult to not strangle the guy beside her.

“She might not show up.”  Jughead was actually hoping that would be the case. He didn’t know what the drama was, but since his dad had caught wind of you being in town tensions had been running higher than normal and you showing up here might be the match that lights the fire.

“Why wouldn’t she show up?” The idea that you wouldn’t take Sweet Pea’s offer was something Fangs couldn’t comprehend. He’d understand if you didn’t take up him or Toni, but when the guy that you had the biggest heart burn with offers he assumed you’d know everyone was on board.

“It’s not like the Wyrm is neutral meeting ground.” Jughead was willing to bet that coming back here brought more feelings of dread than it did nostalgia. Even if he was to look past the change in demeanor with his dad, the last place they’d all seen you had been in the bar and stepping back into it was bound to drag up old feelings.

Fangs waved off Jughead like what he was suggesting shouldn’t be taken into consideration. The Wyrm was the one place they all had gathered in, good times and bad; four weeks or four years later shouldn’t change that. “She used to hang out in here all the time, why would that bother her now?”

“A lot of things have changed, Fangs. She might not be as comfortable with it as before. Or with us.” Toni did her best to be sympathetic to Fangs’ frustrations, but still bring home the point that he wasn’t going to be able to just pick up where the two of you had left off. 

“That’s just stupid.” Fangs heard what his friends were saying and knew that they were right, but that didn’t make the pill any easier to swallow. He didn’t want things to have changed between the two of you; he’d prepared himself for the idea that you would never come back or that you’d gotten yourself killed some how, but he’d never thought about what he’d do if he ever saw you again and the dynamics had changed. The idea that you could look at him as a stranger and not the good friend you left behind was more gut wrenching than never seeing you again.

“To you maybe, but I would bet she thinks differently.” Jughead didn’t see any point in sugar coating what Fangs could come up against. Time changed people, especially time spent alone and on the road. He’d seen it in his mother, in his sister, so why would you be any different.

The entire conversation was getting on Sweet Pea’s nerves; he hadn’t thought past extending the invite and with Jughead offering up his two cents on you being here was stirring up unwanted memories. “She’ll either show up or she won’t. Quit arguing about it.”

“Who is showing up?” Dottie had been watching the group since they’d all walked in, Fangs’ increased agitation perking her attention as the conversation had continued and they all added their two cents. She had an inkling what all of this was attributed too, FP had just about blown his lid the other night when he got back to her place, but she wanted confirmation from those closest.

Sweet Pea toyed with his beer bottle, dark eyes not quite able to meet Dottie’s. “Old classmate is in town. Invited her for a drink to catch up.”

“Must be a little more than an old classmate if you’re inviting her here.” While Sweet Pea was one of the best enforcers that she’d ever seen come through the ranks, a good liar he was not.

Toni rolled her eyes at Sweet Pea’s attempt to be evasive, if you showed up every would know so she didn’t see the point in trying to keep it a secret. “It’s Y/N.” Out of all the senior members, Dottie was one that could be trusted to keep her wits about her when you walked through that door. 

Suspicion confirmed, Dottie did her best to keep her features impassive. She’d gone the rounds with Beth on more than one occasion, usually in search of payment for product since she couldn’t talk around her like she could with the men, but Dottie had never had a problem with you. In fact, she’d enjoyed your company around the bar and your help when things got thick. “Heard she was back in town.”

“Do you hear everything?” Sweet Pea wasn’t surprised, Dottie was the eyes and ears of the Serpents; if something was going down or someone was in town Dottie usually knew about it. Some of the members might think she esd nothing more than a bartender with a Serpent tattoo, but business didn’t happen without her say so.

“Kind of hard not to when every day is spent here.” Dottie traded out Sweet Pea’s empty for a full bottle, offering him a smile when he nodded his thanks. “Besides, I grab lunch with Lonnie on occasion. He may have mentioned something.”

“She was just invited.” Fangs exaggerated invited with air quotes and an eye roll before finishing off his bottle. “Doesn’t mean she accepted the invitation… at least according to Jughead.”

Dottie could help but chuckle at the side eye Fangs gave the younger Jones. The dynamic amongst this group was a unique one, though they all respected Jughead for his position they weren’t above making sure he knew what their opinion was. Replacing empties as she worked her way down the group, movement at the main door caught her attention, her lips turning up ever so slightly as she caught sight you. “Oh, I’d say she accepted.”

Following Dottie’s gaze, Sweet Pea watched as you maneuvered your way through the crowd just in time to be stopped in your tracks by FP.

You’d been so dead set on keeping your eyes on the ground and avoiding attention that you hadn’t realized FP had stepped in your way until you almost ran into him, tension working it’s way through your system as you held his dark glare.

“What are you doing here.” FP was confident there had been no mistaking the message he’d sent to you last week, but your appearance here meant he was proven otherwise. It was that, or you felt like you could ignore his wishes and if that was the case he’d have to made sure he was heard this time.

Fists shoved in the pockets of your jacket, you could feel the muscles in your jaw jump as you spoke between clenched teeth, the venom in FP’s word’s making your lip curl. “I was invited.”

“I thought I made myself clear when…”

“Jones!” Both of you snapped your attention to the red head behind the bar, Dottie’s green eyes barely glancing at you before settling on FP. “I don’t think she swung in here to visit with you.”

You waited a beat as FP and Dottie silently challenged each other across the bar, FP finally relenting and dragging his dark eyes back to you. There was no mistaking his feeling about you being there, but it was obvious he wasn’t willing to fight with one of his officers about it. At least in public.

“If you’ll excuse me.” Pushing past FP, you didn’t make it ten yards before you yelped in surprise as Fangs lifted you off the ground and wrapped you in a hug.

“Y/N!” Spinning the two of you around in excitement, Fangs held tight for a moment longer before setting you safely back on the ground. “We were afraid you weren’t going to come.” Sweet Pea and Toni had been right, very little had changed from the last time he’d seen you and that put some of his anxieties at ease after seeing it with his own eyes.

“Well, here I am.” Giving Fangs one more tight squeeze, your eyes settled on the last person from your circle you had yet to run across. “Jughead.”

“Long time no see.” Tilting the neck of the bottle in your direction, Jughead studied you for a moment before his gaze traveled to the glaring look FP was shooting down the bar and back again. He knew he was going to catch hell for not stepping up and supporting his father, but after Dottie had stepped in and made it obvious you were welcome in her bar, Jughead wasn’t willing to put himself in the middle of it. You being in the bar for a few hours and downing a couple beers wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Besides, he wouldn’t mind hearing what you’ve been up to.

“Still drinking Jameson on the rocks?”

“Yeah, but just beer tonight.” Dottie’s sudden interruption pulled your attention to mistress behind the bar, returning her wry smile with one of your own. “How’d you remember?”

Dottie didn’t look like she had aged a day from the last time you saw her, she must have been pushing fifty by now but you would never be able to tell. You had always respected Dottie, no matter what everyone was saying about Beth or what Beth owed the Serpents she’d always managed to keep her opinions of you separate from those of your mother. And the fact that she demanded respect in a gang mostly of men had always made you a little envious.

“Some orders just stick with you.” Dottie never thought she’d forget an order like that, she’d been serving it to you since you were sixteen and there were few that ordered anything more than well or domestic beer. “Nice to see you, Y/N.”

“You too, Dottie.” Her smile seemed genuine as she made her way down the line of customers to refresh their drinks; whatever FP’s issues were with you being back in town, Dottie didn’t seem to share the same concern. Or if she did, she wasn’t letting it show.

Sweet Pea hadn’t realized how much he’d been hoping you would show up until he saw you by the door; since you’d left the garage that morning he’d been left with a funny feeling and until you were sitting beside him again, he hadn’t realized it had been the need to see you again. “Glad you decided to come by.”

“Figured one beer wouldn’t hurt me.” The relief of not having to drink alone tonight and the hope of finding out more information about your current employer is what had dragged you in tonight, but now that you were seated amongst familiar faces you found yourself craving a night like you’d enjoyed in the past. Drinks, jokes, easy conversation and a game of pool. “You did a good job on Beth’s house, Fangs. The kitchen is a big improvement.”

Having offered you the stool beside Sweet Pea, Fangs was reclined against the bar between you and Jughead, his eyes bright with pride at the mention of his work. “Thanks. It was one of my first jobs.”

“Sweet Pea said you’re flipping houses?”

“On the side. And then Toni sells them.” The side business that he and Toni had cooked up recently really was his pride and joy; he needed the manager job at Andrews construction to pay the bills but the house stuff was really what he loved to do. There was nothing more satisfying than watching Toni slap a sold sign out in front of one of the houses he’d rehabbed. 

Toni clinked her bottle against Fangs’ in a show of support, he had the hard part in all of this. “It’s a pretty sweet deal for both of us. And the Southside is in desperate need of a cleanup.”

Chuckling, Sweet Pea raised his beer in agreement. “I’ll drink to that.” The two of them were doing the Southside a huge favor really, this side of the tracks may never be classy like the Northside, but at least it could look habitable. 

“So what about you? Toni said you were living somewhere down south?” Fangs hadn’t gotten too much information from his friends about what you’d been doing, he didn’t know if it was because they didn’t know or if the fact you were scrounging Lonnie’s files was more pressing to them.

You did your best to contain your eyerolls, you knew everyone would be curious about what you’d been doing, where you had been, but hashing into that would inevitably turn the mood of the evening and you really just wanted to have fun. “Yeah. New Orleans.”

“Have you only been there? Do you travel a lot?”

“Uh… I travel. Quite a bit.” You didn’t miss the way Sweet Pea and Toni looked at each other, as if keeping track of how many times you evaded giving them all full answers about what you’ve been doing and where you’ve been since leaving.

“How long are you staying?” Trying to get any information out of you was like pulling teeth and for the first time, Fangs was at a loss of what to do.  You used to be a chatty Kathy, the conversation between the two of flowing effortlessly and covering a range of topics, but now it almost felt like he was trying to talk to a complete stranger.

“Until I get some stuff of Beth’s handled.” You could only hope the they wouldn’t get too curious about what needed to be dealt with because you hadn’t thought up a lie for that question yet. Most people just left it at that, but the Serpents weren’t most people. “And get the house listed.”

“I can do that for you.” Toni perked up at the mention of a possible listing, brain always on work despite the fact she’d clocked out hours ago. “List the house I mean.”

“Oh. I don’t…” Toni’s offer caught you off guard; getting the house on the market had been low on your list of priorities since your meet up with the Russians and without knowing what Beth had stashed in it, you really didn’t want people nosing around. “I haven’t even been through the whole house yet. I don’t know what needs to be done.”

“I can look at it for you. Beth had talked to me about updates before she… when I was working in the kitchen.” It had been a while since Fangs had been inside, but he had a list of things back at his place that Beth had talked about. It wouldn’t be too hard to take the extra job on.

“Guys, I don’t want to…” You could feel your control on the situation beginning to slip, everyone suddenly wanting to help you with the house taking all the specially scripted plans you’d thought up and throwing them to the wind.

Sweet Pea didn’t miss the way you chewed on your lip or the way you shifted uncomfortably beside him. If he didn’t know better, he would say the idea of having Fangs and Toni hanging around the house wasn’t something you wanted; whether you were just hesitant of their generosity or if something more serious was coming into play he couldn’t say. “Might as well take them up on the offer.”

“I’ll think about it, ok?” You still hadn’t gone back to try and get into the garage; before you’d let anyone else back in that house you needed to know what was in there. If it turned out to be nothing, then sure, Fangs could do the updates and Toni could put the stupid thing on the market, no harm no foul. But if there was something in there, something that tied to your bigger problem, there was no way you were letting them near the property. They didn’t need that kind of trouble. 

Fangs nodded in agreement, excited by the prospect of getting their hands on your old childhood home. “Fair enough.” He was hopefully that the work that needed done would be extensive enough that you would hang around Riverdale longer and really give him a chance to catch up with you.

Hoping that was the end of the conversation, you took a deep pull from your bottle and slid from the stool, if you were going to get a handle on your nerves you needed to do something and it seemed only right that you fall back on an old favorite. “Great.  Now that we’ve got that settled, are we going to play pool?”

“You still remember how to play?” Sweet Pea was momentarily taken aback by your suggestion; you’d been a damn good pool partner once upon a time, but he figured, like everything else from your past in Riverdale, you’d let the skill fall by the wayside. 

Coy smile spread across you features, you just shrugged as you backed away in the direction of the tables. “Can’t pay all my bills with just tips.”

Sweet Pea watched as the eight-ball sunk cleanly into the pocket you’d called, a loud cheer coming from Toni as you secured another win against Fangs; that put you two to one over him tonight and the way you were playing made it seem like you were just warming up. 

“Doesn’t look like she’d lost her touch.”

Absently nodding in agreement with Jughead, Sweet Pea watched the exchange between you, Toni and Fangs, a loud round of laughter coming from the group; he couldn’t make out what you were saying over the music, but the huge smile you flashed before passing off your stick to Toni sent what felt a shot of lightning through his gut. It was almost like he was watching reruns from high school, the lot of you gathered around the pool table in the back, beer flowing, music playing and escaping, if only for a little while, the scary reality that waited for you outside these walls.

“How long do you think she’ll stay in town?” Jughead knew FP had been watching them in the back bar mirror most of the night, a cloud of tension seeming to hover over him as the night drew on. His Dad had never offered up an explanation for why your presence in town was a sore subject, but Jughead figured the sooner you left the quicker peace would be returned. 

Before Sweet Pea could venture a guess, you reclaimed the stool beside him, effectively halting anymore probing questions and forcing a subject change to safer conversation. “I’m impressed.”

Sipping from the longneck you’d left by your stuff, you grinned against the rim of the bottle. Pool had always been a hobby of yours, and while you were no match for Sweet Pea’s skills it gave you a boost of confidence that you could still hold your own against the others. “Couldn’t let Fangs think he was better than me.”

A sudden vibration in the pocket of your jeans sent you jumping from your chair, the audible sound sending both men at the table in search of their own devices to see if they were the culprit.

“Where are you going?”

Waving off Jughead’s question, you checked the screen on the small burn phone Ioann had given you before scurrying towards the back of the bar and out of earshot of the rest of the group, dread pooling in the pit of your stomach. 

Sweet Pea watched you disappear towards the women’s bathroom, his brows furrowing when he caught sight of the smartphone you’d left beside your beer. The shot of lightning he’d felt earlier at the sight of your smile was turning to dread when it dawned on him you were running two phones.

Double checking the lock on the door before answering, your thumb hovered over the answer button for a moment before relenting to the constant buzzing. “Hello.”

“There is a pick up for you. Fifteen minutes.”

“I’m kind of busy at the moment.” You didn’t bother to hide your irritation, it was bad enough that you were participating in illegal activity but having to be at the beck and call of these men was icing on the cake.

The man on the other end of the line was silent for a moment, as if he wasn’t expecting a challenge from you. “I didn’t ask if you were available.”

“You don’t have anyone else that can make the run?” It probably wasn’t in your best interest to argue with man who swore allegiance to a ruthless organized crime boss but being forced to end your evening early when you were just starting to relax was hitch you didn’t appreciate.

“Don’t be late.”

Before you could get another word out, the line went dead. You could back talk or argue with them all you wanted, but at the end of the day you were at their mercy. Until you were able to figure out a way for them to call off the debt or until Ioann determined you were paid in full, they were the ones calling the shots and you had to hope you’d be able to slip out of here without raising too much suspicion.

Toni and Fangs had joined Sweet Pea and Jughead by the time you made it back to the table, a fresh round of drinks being divvied out amongst everyone. You did your best to act casual, but you caught everyone’s attention as you shoved the smart phone and keys you’d left on the table into your jacket pocket. “Sorry guys, something came up. I’ve gotta run.”

“You just got here.” Veins humming with the effects of one too many beers, Fangs hit you with the best pout he could muster. He was having too good a time catching up with you and wasn’t ready for the evening to end.

“I’ve been here almost four hours.” That was three hours longer and three more beers than originally planned, but it had been so easy to slip back into an old routine that you’d lost track of time.

“You going to come back?” In better shape than Fangs, but disappointed all the same, Toni quirked her head at your sudden change of plans. Things came up, she got that, but it wasn’t like you had a large array of friends in Riverdale and anyone you were close with before leaving were sitting around the high top.

“Not tonight. But maybe another time.” Knowing your eyes were telling more than your words, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at Sweet Pea before departing; he’d always been able to read you better than the rest and it was already shady enough that you had to up and leave so unexpectedly that you didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. 

Sweet Pea watched as you said a good bye to Dottie and a shared a look of disdain with FP before pushing his way through patrons to follow you outside; you might be able to pull the wool over everyone else’s eyes, but not his. He knew you better than the rest of them.

You didn’t need to turn around to know who was following you through the parking lot, surprised that you had made it this close to the Buick before he was able to catch up with you. “I don’t need an escort to the car, Sweet Pea.” 

“What’s going on.” Sweet Pea couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach after he’d realized you were toting around two phones, there were too many questions unanswered and everything about your sudden departure had sent him on high alert.

“A friend needs my help.” You should have known better than to think you could get out of the bar without getting questioned. It was your fault really, accepting the invitation tonight had been a mistake. Showing up tonight, playing pool like nothing had changed blurred the lines you had promise yourself you were going to establish and this was the consequence.

Sweet Pea slammed his palm against the car door to prevent you from opening it, he had entertained your evasive answers ever since the run in at the grocery store and he was over it. “At ten o’clock at night?”

You turned on him in a flurry of temper as he prevented your exit; friend or not, he had been out of your life long enough that he had no right to question your comings and goings. “I remember a time where you’d run off at all hours to help a friend.”

“This is different.”

“How?”

“Everyone you used to hang around with is here. Got friends in Riverdale I don’t know about?” Sweet Pea smirked down at you as the muscles in your jaw jumped, he knew there wasn’t a way for you to talk your way out of this one.  

All you could do was stare at Sweet Pea as his words settled between you two, obviously the friend lie got you nowhere but there wasn’t a chance you could tell him what was really going on so saying nothing seemed liked the best option. “I appreciate the concern Sweet Pea, but you aren’t in a position to demand answers.”

The dark haired Serpent held your gaze for a moment longer before relenting and stepping back from the vehicle. You were right, he wasn’t in a position to demand answers, or even be concerned about your safety, but as he watched you drive off in the opposite direction of the motel he couldn’t help but worry all the same.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Perched on the hood of your car, parked in the back of a truck stop lot amongst the long-haul rigs and campers toting people on family vacations, you watched with amusement at the comings and goings of the late-night crowds. You’d spent a fair number of evenings camped out in parking lots like this all around the country and no matter where you had made camp, the people watching never failed to entertain.

There was a constant flow of traffic in and out of the main doors; truckers needing a shower to late night drivers in search of caffeine, to the not quite sober on the hunt for a late night snack. Call girls worked their way from truck to truck earning their evening wages, shadowed eyes darting around the lot hoping someone took notice of the rig they were getting in before climbing in to join their john.

Cigarette clamped between your teeth, you dug around in your pocket for your lighter as a young blonde, probably about you age by the looks of it, scurried by you. Her shorts barely covered her ass and the shirt she wore left little to the imagination, but you figured it was the best type of advertising in her line of work. The flame of the lighter flickered in the warm evening air for a moment before you took a deep drag, pushing smoke through your nose as you watched a guy about FP’s age open his door for her and she soon disappeared into the depths of his truck.

Your heart ached for the pretty blond, knowing there had been a time, not that long ago, where you could have ended up just like her. By sheer dumb luck you had managed to escape her fate, though, looking at where you were at the moment, you couldn’t say you were that much better off. While you weren’t traipsing around parking lots in high heels and booty shorts, you were sitting in one, smoking a cigarette and waiting from someone to come pick up a delivery of illegal drugs.

Butt glowing a warm red and smoke curling from the end, you scanned the parking lot in search of your buyer. Ioann’s man at the coffee shop where you picked up the package had given no more information than location, his irritation with you almost palpable, and you hadn’t wanted to push your luck trying to dig for more. You figured driving around in a car the size of a boat would draw attention, even in a truck stop, so it was up to whomever wanted the stuff to find you.

Parked a few rows in front of you, a foreign car and a couple of guys whispering and pointing in the glow of the lot lighting caught your attention. A red head was very angerly gesturing with his hands about something and the other two, one with a shaved head and the other a blonde, glanced anxiously over at you and back again.

Most of the time, you didn’t know who you were dropping off with, but you were guessing the trio of frat boys were your guys for this evening’s purchase.

Since you started this new venture of employment, none of Beth’s buyers would give you any information on if they thought she was skimming or running something behind her bosses back, but something about this crew gave you a feeling that your luck was about to change.

Amused by their antics, the animated gesturing and hushed conversation continued as the three finally approached you, the blonde the first to man up and start the conversation. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“Depends.” Knocking ash beside the car, you took another drag and considered the boys through the smoke. “Who’s asking?”

Unsure of himself for a moment, the blonde glanced back at the boys behind him, hesitant to continue until the shaved head kid encouraged him with a nod a little shove. His gaze darted around the parking lot for a moment before settling back on you, his adam’s apple bobbing nervously in his throat. “We’re supposed to meet our new dealer here?”

“Not something you want to admit to a complete stranger.” Tone even, you looked between the three guys before glancing over your shoulder as a truck door creaked somewhere nearby. You were enjoying their squirming more than you’d like to admit and it seemed too good of an opportunity to let them off the hook this easy.

Three sets of nervous expressions began darting from you to each other and around the surrounding rigs, the red head that had seemed quite irritated earlier began to turn the color of his hair, fumbling over his words as he shuffled away from the group in an attempt to distance himself. “B-B-But they said….”

While you weren’t an expert in drug selling, or buying really, you’d been involved in enough small time deals to know how it goes, and apparently the three frat boys were new to the game. Blondie had gone pale as he and the shaved head kid just stared at each other, both seemingly lost at what to do.

Deciding to take pity on the guys, and more importantly not wanting them to run off scared, you took one last drag from your butt before tossing it onto the ground, booted foot dosing the light as you jumped from the hood. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m your girl.”

Relief over took the trio, the angry red head halting his escape and turning back as the blonde and buzz cut shared a smile.

“See, told you she was the one.” The buzz cut yelled over his shoulder at the red head as they followed close on your heels to the passenger side of the car, the second-row door creaking with age. Stashed amongst a collection of spare clothes, a cooler and blankets, used to hide the obvious, was the product your coffee shop friends had sent you off with. Three sets of eyes shimmered with excitement once their payday came into view.

Tone defensive, the redhead shifted his weight to one hip and crossed his arms across his chest, brow furrowed in irritation at his friends. “How was I supposed to know. She doesn’t look like a drug dealer.”

You chuckled under your breath, voice muffled from the interior of the car as you tossed blankets and clothes out of your way. “What does a drug dealer usually look like?”

“I don’t know. Just not like you.” The red head scuffed his shoe against the gravel lot, nervous energy still radiating from him even though his counterparts seemed to have relaxed. It was obvious that this business wasn’t something he was comfortable with, but he either really needed the money or didn’t want his friends to think he was chicken, so he continued to hang around.

Dragging a box full of what looked like diet pill containers across the back seat, you handed one of the bottles over to the blonde to inspect. “Is that what you ordered?”

You had to give Ioann’s crew credit where credit was due, moving illegal oxy in diet pill containers was truly ingenious. They were pretty inconspicuous, transported well and you highly doubted the Riverdale police department would think twice about them should a person get pulled over.

“Looks like it”, passing the bottle off to the buzz cut kid, the blonde made a grab for the rest of the box but stopped short as you moved in front of the open door.

Hand extended, you wiggled your fingers in his direction for emphasis; you weren’t sure how your mother had done business, but you sure as hell weren’t letting this stuff out of sight without cash in hand. “Ah ah, cash first.”

“Oh, right.” Digging through the pockets of his coat, he handed over a wad of cash and you side stepped to let them get the rest of their product. Handing the box off to the red head, the blonde chuckled as he watched his friend hurry back to their car and hide inside it, an attempt to hide his identity that was futile.

Frame relaxed against your rear fender, buzz cut guy watched you unfold the wad of cash and count out the bills. “So, what happened to the lady that used to make this run?”

“Didn’t ask.” Satisfied it was all there, you tucked the payment into the interior pocket of your jacket and closed the back door, your hip resting beside the handle. The blonde and buzz cut were different from the others you had delivered too, where the rest were to the point or non-conversational, much like the hiding redhead, these guys seemed to be in no hurry and willing to sit and visit.

“Damn, we liked her.” Buzz cut’s brows furrowed as he spoke, his blonde friend nodding in agreement and appearing equally disappointed. Obviously, the relationship the boys had with Beth was on a different level than the rest of her customers and it was the window of opportunity you’ve been waiting for.

You idly inspected your nails for a moment before diving into you’re your questions, not wanting to raise suspicion about what you were digging for but eager to know what the guys were willing to dish out. “You buy from her long?”

“I don’t know what long is in this business, but it’s been a while.” Blondie shrugged his shoulders and stared at his feet, brand new Nikes kicking at your back tire. “She really helped us out in the beginning.”

Your ears perked up at the guy’s admission, theories beginning to rapidly run through your head. You could only think of a few ways that Beth would have been able to help the boys and none of them would leave Ioann and his crew in the green. “How so?”

The pair shared a look with each other, both appearing a little apprehensive about divulging their missteps in the market. They glanced to where their red head was still hiding in the car before the blonde shrugged and buzz cut relented. “We couldn’t move all the product when we first started so she cut us some slack and only charged for what we wanted. Saved our skin in a big way.”

“What happened to the stuff you guys didn’t take?” You doubted Beth had involved any of her regulars in the side business, or that they even had knowledge that she was skimming, but there was no harm in asking.

The two shared a confused look before the blonde spoke up, perfectly manicured brows furrowed. “We assumed it went back to her boss.”

Your heart beat hard in your chest with the confirmation of your suspicions, Beth was doing her own side deals with product she wasn’t giving to the customers and then never giving Ioann his cut and you’d bet your left arm that she’d stashed what she hadn’t sold yet in the garage at the house.

Ioann had obviously grown wise to her scheming since you had been called to pay the debt, but he’d never told you how he had figured all of this. “Ever have to deal with anyone besides your old dealer?”

“Some dude came snooping around a month or two ago, asked some questions and then left.” While blonde guy didn’t seem to have a problem answering all your questions, you could tell buzz cut kid was studying you harder, as if your sudden interest in the past deals were setting off alarm bells for him.

“What did he look like?” Before you could get another word out the shrill ringing of a cell phone echoed between the group. Both guys feverishly searched their pockets, the blonde blonde’s phone screen lit up like a Christmas tree. You couldn’t see the picture of the person calling, but whoever it was made the kid roll his eyes.

“Dark hair, shorter.” Thumb sliding across the screen, the blonde stepped away from you and headed in the direction of where the red head was still hiding.  

You waited a beat before turning your attention to the remaining frat boy, his calculating look needling the nerves you’d been able to keep at bay. “Did he ask about anything in particular?”

Buzz cut watched his friend walk away, whatever the blonde was mumbling into the receiver inaudible to the two of you, but he motioned for his friend to follow as the engine of the car they’d all come in turned over. Still, the frat boy lingered a moment, his brows furrowing and eyes watching your expression carefully before answering. “Said he wanted to make sure we were getting everything we were charged for. Asked if we had any issues with our lady.”

“Did you?” You were hanging on every word as he spoke, blood humming with excitement at finally having gotten a break.

“Told him it was all kosher.” He hesitated a moment before stepping away from your car, intent on following his friend, but obviously curious about the sudden game of fifty questions. “Why are you asking all this?”

Doing your best to brush him off, you just shrugged your shoulders and hit him with an easy smile. “Just getting a feel for the guys I’m working for.”

He considered you a moment longer, lips quirking as he weighed your words, before ultimately accepting them and following his friend.

Shaking another light from the pack in your pocket, you took a drag and waited for the car to pull out of the truck stop before climbing into your vehicle, wanting to make sure the guys were long gone before you headed in the opposite direction home. You smiled through the windshield as the engine turned over and the blonde from earlier came striding back across the lot, a smirk on her face, fingers counting out a nice wad of bills. You chuckled to yourself, maneuvering the buick onto the main road, it looks like both of you had a successful night.

Sweet Pea checked his watch again, time seeming to crawl as he sat in the motel lot waiting for you to return. After you left the Wyrm he’d gone back in, trying to let the beer and a game of pool drown out the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he’d been unsuccessful. While Toni and Fangs had been too tuned up to even notice he was leaving, Jughead had only offered a nod of understanding, though his eyes seemed to question. Sweet Pea hadn’t missed the way his friend had kept glancing over at his dad, or the way FP had glared at their group as he and Dottie exchanged heated words behind the bar, but Sweet Pea could only manage one crisis at a time and you were priority.

Fingers tapping anxiously against the steering wheel, Sweet Pea’s lip curled in disgust watching an obvious pay by the hour couple slink from the office into one of the lower level rooms. He couldn’t understand why you were willingly living in this dump, with people like that all around, when your mother’s house sat vacant and perfectly habitable.

Not that your living situation or safety should be of a concern to him. You had told Sweet Pea point blank that you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself and didn’t need him worrying about you. And yet… here he sat. Try as he might, Sweet Pea couldn’t stop the protective instinct you brought out in him, even after the years apart and the messy ending between the two of you. He could tell himself that he would do the same for anyone, make sure they weren’t getting themselves into trouble they couldn’t get out of, but with you it was different. This was something deeper, something almost primal, in the desire to make sure you were out of harm’s way, but the desire to protect was a slippery slope and Sweet Pea knew it wouldn’t take much for that need to take on a much different face if he didn’t check himself.

The flicker of headlights in the rearview mirror brought the motel parking lot back into Sweet Pea’s line of focus, your boat of a Buick bumping its way over potholes before coming to a stop half way down the row of rooms. He waited till you’d shut the engine off and the lights dimmed before slipping from the pickup, his long stride carrying him across the lot in a few easy steps in time to come face to face with you as you turned from checking that the door was locked.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you turned and ran into a flannel clad chest, pure panic overtaking your senses for a moment before recognizing the dog tags and familiar cologne, a deep chuckle vibrating from the chest in front of you. Tired and irritated with his unwelcome appearance, you glared up at Sweet Pea. “What are you, my babysitter?”

“Just wanted to make sure you made it back in one piece.” Grin in place, Sweet Pea shifted to box you against the Buick, arms caging you between them to support himself, his focus dropping to meet your gaze.

Temper simmered in your eyes as you held Sweet Pea’s dark ones, the closeness you found yourself in sending an involuntary blush across your cheeks. You thought you had been pretty clear with Sweet Pea that you didn’t want him in this part of your life, but the warning must have fallen on deaf ears. Your tone sounded cold, even to you, as you made a move to duck beneath Sweet Pea’s arms. “Now that you’ve seen to that, you can be on your way.”

Moving to block your escape, Sweet Pea quirked his head to the side, the grin never faltering as if daring you to try again. “What did your friend need?”

“Gave me some stuff of Beth’s.” Unable to meet his eyes, you focused on the main office that was situated right behind his shoulder. Sweet Pea could read you better than most and it wouldn’t take much for him to see the lie.

Sweet Pea peered into the back windows of the Buick, catching sight of only a ball of blankets, before he pinned you with a look that said he didn’t believe you. “It couldn’t have waited till tomorrow?”

“What are you digging for, Sweet Pea?” You didn’t bother trying to hide the weariness in your voice, trying to have a quick answer for all Sweet Pea’s constant questioning was starting to drain you. It took more work than you were prepared for to keep everyone out of your business and it was only a matter of time before the lies and half-truths came tumbling down around you.

“Trying to figure out what you’ve got going on.” A breeze whistled down the motel’s open hallways, your hair dancing along with it. Sweet Pea itched to touch you, to feel the silkiness of your hair beneath his fingers and the softness of your skin. He didn’t dare risk it, knowing one touch from him would send you into orbit, but oh how we wanted to.

Knowing you wouldn’t entertain the idle chatter much longer, Sweet Pea figured it was time to bring out what he knew, see what kind of reaction he would get from you. “And why you need two phones…”

You could feel the color drain from your face as Sweet Pea let the information hang in the air, the sudden anxiety of being caught balling in your stomach. You thought you had been careful about running multiple devices, but you must have slipped at some point and Sweet Pea was just observant enough to catch you.

“One is for work,” you did you best to wave off his curiosity, acting as if it was a totally normal to have two phones, but it wasn’t hard to see that Sweet Pea wasn’t buying it.

“Waitresses in New Orleans must really be living the high life if they need a work phone.” Sweet Pea dared you to continue with that excuse, knowing full well you’d pulled it out of your ass.

Knowing there wasn’t a better explanation without spilling everything, you went into defense mode and slipped beneath Sweet Pea’s arm, fingers anxiously searching your jacket for the key to your room. “I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

“No, you don’t. But I wish you would.” Sweet Pea didn’t stop your second escape attempt, instead his long legs following you towards your hotel door. He wasn’t ready to end this conversation just yet. “I’m worried about what you’ve got yourself wrapped up in.”

Temper flaring, you turned back on the dark-haired male just before you reached your door, “You aren’t in a position to worry about me.” Sweet Pea couldn’t just go around saying crap like that, not after all this time. Him worrying about you threw you off balance, stirred things up that were better left dormant and invoked the worst of responses from you.

“I’ve been worrying about you since you stepped foot back into this town.” Sweet Pea refused to meet the temper you threw at him, his words sincere.

Sweet Pea’s refusal to fight back left you feeling guilty, the temper that had erupted sputtering out just as quickly. It was wrong to be angry at someone whose intentions were genuine but having someone out there to worry about you was something you hadn’t had in a while and you weren’t all that comfortable with it. “I’m a big girl, Sweet Pea. Been taking care of myself for quite a while now.”

“Riverdale isn’t the same town you left,” warning tinged Sweet Pea’s words, unsure if you fully grasped just what was at play in this town.

“I saw. Lots more coffee shops.” Turning from the towering male, you slipped your room key into the lock, hoping Sweet Pea would get the hint and move on. The tumbling of the lock seemed to echo down the deserted walkway, the only other sound was the beating your heart in your ears. Try as you might to ignore the man behind you, there was no denying the effect his close proximity was having and you needed to get some space between you before things escalated.

“There are more hands pulling for control than you realize.” Sweet Pea tugged on the arm of your jacket until you turned back around to look at him; his voice barely above a whisper, but the worry was evident. “I don’t want to see you wind up in the middle of one of their messes.”

You could feel yourself softening, the walls you’d put up around yourself starting to crumble at the edges at Sweet Pea’s concern. “I’ll watch my back.”

Giving into his impulses, Sweet Pea took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, dark eyes softening as he searched your features. Your confidence and independence had been endearing once, but now it almost scared him. “Never hurts to have a second pair of eyes.”

You were getting involved in God knows what, without anyone there to watch out for you, and seemed to have little concern for the consequences. What you were considering obligation, Sweet Pea saw as foolishness and a possible ticket to an early grave, and that, he wouldn’t let happen.

“Goodnight, Sweet Pea.” Stepping away from Sweet Pea’s touch and back into your room, you shut the door on the towering Serpent, clicking the deadbolt into place as an added measure. Sweet Pea was changing the landscape of your relationship quicker than you could adjust.

Sliding down the length of the door to sit on the floor, you did your best to try and reign in the swarming of emotions, knowing all too well that Sweet Pea was still standing just outside. The chummy conversation at the garage and drinks at the Wyrm had shifted the dynamic and now it was becoming increasingly easy to fall back into old ways.

It wasn’t until you heard the scuff on boots on concrete and a rumble of an engine that you released a breath and the anxiety that had balled in your stomach began to fade. You’d known there was a part of you that would always be left in Riverdale and a part of your heart would always belong to Sweet Pea, but you had been able to push those feelings aside and bury it away, at least until you’d dragged yourself back here.

Since the moment you’d squared off with Sweet Pea in the grocery store parking lot you’d had a hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach, a hole that you had been unable to fill despite your best efforts and that, above all else, concerned you the most. It was as if seeing him again had removed all your ability to compartmentalize your feelings and the job you came back to complete. Letting yourself get distracted by emotions and thoughts of what could have been was a good way to get yourself caught up and in

Something from the floor flickered in the dim lighting as you continued to sit against the door, eyes scanning over the files strewn about the room before settling on the snake charm that hung from your duffle. No matter how many times you shoved the stupid thing down, somehow it continued to make its way out of the bag; your heart flopped in your chest as the diamonds shimmered, you really needed to pawn the damn thing before Sweet Pea caught you with it. If he caught sight of it, he’d go around thinking things that could never be and putting himself in situations that would get him hurt.

While the frat boys hadn’t given you much information, they had confirmed your suspension that your mother was stealing product from Ioann’s crew and most likely selling it for her own gain; with that confirmation, you had an even greater reason to keep everyone at arm’s length. Your gut told you that the waters were only going to get murkier the more you dug and the fallout of that was no one’s responsibility but your own.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn’t make you guys wait too long for this one- only… two weeks? That seems pretty good compared to my previous update schedule with this fic. It’ll probably be another two weeks till the next one, but slowly I hope to get back to once a week. As always, appreciate everyone’s support on this! Enjoy!

The incessant humming of fluorescent lights and Lonnie’s constant sighing and shifting on the couch was beginning to grate on you; you’d been staring at the computer screen for hours, in search of anything that would help you link your new boss to the illegal happenings he’d gotten you roped into and, so far, you’d come up with nothing. You still didn’t know what you’d do with the proof of Ioann’s involvement, if you found any, but at least you’d have it and that was the hardest part of the battle.

Despite the lack of progress on finding useful information, your digging did prove to be quite enlightening, though maybe not productive; Lonnie’s customer base wasn’t just limited to Southside gang members and low-class families, like some would like to believe. In fact, Lonnie had quite the regular clientele from the other side of the tracks.

It would be naive to think that all the Northsiders were clean nosed, Archie Andrews and the whole Lodge family could attest to that, but it was surprising to see who had found, and continues to find themselves, in varying degrees of trouble.

You’d struggled not to laugh out loud when Betty Cooper’s DUI and MIP popped up on the screen, the blonde princess the last person you thought would be caught for such acts, or when Chuck Clayton’s very hungover mugshot flickered across the screen from when he was caught with a dime bag he’d bought off a Serpent right after a graduation party. But a more interesting, and rather concerning trend, seemed to be the large uptick in arrests, specifically drug related ones, in the last two years.

Based on the amount of people picked up for possession of Adderall without a prescription, it was safe to say that Ioann had sunk his teeth deep into the stay at home mommy crowd and the number of arrests for possession of a controlled substances were quickly rising; at this rate, it wouldn’t take much for them to surpass the Adderall arrests. If you compared the information the database was telling you to the information you’d managed to pull from you mother’s own records, prescription drugs were the new hot commodity in Riverdale and you would bet that Ioann was at the center of it all. Gang control of this town’s darker side had always been a moving target, mostly rotating between the Serpents and Ghoulies, but it would seem that the Russians were currently the throne holders. Now all you needed was the smoking gun.

Tossing another file onto the growing pile beside the computer, you clicked through to the next stranger in Lonnie’s database. You had been hoping that within the piles of the bond office’s regulars, you would find someone that had a history you could cross reference with your mother’s arrests, the icing on the cake being that one of those deadbeats would also be someone you recognized from Ioann’s group of minions, but so far, they hadn’t surfaced amongst the faces.

Anxiously toying with the Serpent pendant around your neck, the one you only put on so you could take it to the pawn shop just as soon as you finished up at the bond office, you shifted at the computer as Lonnie watched from his spot across the room. The big man didn’t have to say a word for you to know you were in his sights, one hard look from his penetrating blue eyes was enough to make the hair stand up on the back of your neck. “Would you stop that.”

“Stop what?” Diverting his attention back to his phone, Lonnie swiped a thumb across the screen and perused something he pulled up with more interest than believable, acting as if he hadn’t been studying your every move with a look of concern and irritation etched into his weathered features.  

Glancing over the top of the monitor, you aimed an exaggerated eye roll in the older man’s direction and clicked through to the next unfamiliar face on the screen. “Watching me.”

“I’m not watching you.” Eyes not leaving his phone, the barely there lift at the corner of Lonnie’s mouth betrayed his words.

“I can see you above the computer screen.” Distracted, you matched the name on the screen to a file in your pile and flipped through the meager information it offered. Despite not recognizing the face, when you saw the charge was possession with intent to sell, you’d hoped that it was one of the guys Ioann employed. Lonnie’s notes offered very little, but once you saw “serpent tattoo” mentioned in discerning markings, you dropped the file aside with a frustrated huff.

Tossing the phone on top a collection of mugshots he’d been reviewing at some point, Lonnie propped his legs up on the coffee table and reclined back against the couch, hands resting behind his head and grinning as the lines between your brows deepened. “Finding what you need?”

“No.” The network Lonnie had given you access to was vast and provided more information than you’d ever get on your own, but it was hard to navigate and since you had no idea what to search for, you found yourself just bumbling around and coming out with nothing of substance.

“What are you looking for?” Lonnie knew the question would go unanswered, but he’d asked anyways. “Maybe I could help.”

Throughout all the digging and searching, you had remained tight lipped about what your motives were, not wanting to dirty Lonnie’s name with whatever you might be going up against.

Despite your secretive nature, Lonnie seemed to have an idea about where you were headed, though he never said as much and never offered up any information that could help the search if he, in fact, did know.

Lips set in a grim line, you met Lonnie’s gaze across the room. “Thought you didn’t want anything to do with this.”

For all the tools he’d offered up, the bondsman had been adamant that he wasn’t getting involved in, what he called, your wild goose chase. At first, you thought Lonnie knew you were hunting for something that didn’t exist and was just going to let you have your fun, but the more time you spent digging around in the system and pulling his files, the deeper the frown on his features became. For you, that was a strong enough sign to confirm that there was, in fact, something for you to find.

Grin slipping from his features, the big man’s brows furrowed. “I don’t.”

As frustrating as it had been to wade through all this information on your own, knowing all the while the man across from you might have answers to your problems, it was better in the long run to go it alone. It was hard to tell how much Lonnie wasn’t sharing, but as long as he didn’t help, it would ensure he was able to keep his hands clean and there would be no reason for Ioann to search him out.

“Then stop asking me what I’m looking for.” Gaze holding his for another moment, you focused back onto the computer and the folders still left to get through. If you could get through this last half dozen, you’d call it for a bit and give Lonnie back his space.

Silence settled around the office once again, the clicking of your fingers flying across the keyboard the only sound. You could tell Lonnie wanted to say more, his constant shifting on the couch and double checking his phone a sheer giveaway, but he tried his damndest to keep his mouth shut. Until he just couldn’t.  “You aren’t going to find what you want in that database.”

“You don’t know that.” You tossed another folder and clicked through to another screen. The face of another unfamiliar person, a female this time, popped up, stocking the growing frustration you were trying to keep at bay. You’d always known Riverdale had a knack for attracting people with an unsavory background, but the amount of people with arrest records that were tied to this hell hole, in one way or another, was getting ridiculous.

Lonnie had to admire your determination, if he was in your boat, he’d have given up hours ago. But he also wouldn’t be willingly searching out criminals he wasn’t going to get paid to hunt down, so there was that. “You wouldn’t still be searching if it was there.”

“This stupid thing just needs a better search option.” Irritated when the unknown female provided no connection to your mother or Ioann, you reclined back in the computer chair and studied the water stains on the ceiling above you. Your eyes were burning, your back was aching and your stomach was starting to grumble. You’d swilled down some dishwater coffee at the motel, but outside the random Twix bar you found in your glove compartment, you had yet to eat today and it was already past noon.

Watching as you stared blankly at the ceiling, your expressions changing as thoughts and frustrations worked in your head, it struck Lonnie how much you looked like your mother. Granted, your skin color was healthier and your hair in much better condition, but there was no mistaking who you belonged to. He liked to remember the sober Beth, when her system was drug free and long before she took ill; that was the Beth you reminded him of and despite your denials, the two of you shared the same personality.

Hucking a pen in your direction to get you to face him, Lonnie only grinned as you glowered back. “Ever think there was nothing else to find?”

Wanting to continue your search, but void of the motivation needed, you spun your chair away from the screen and wheeled out from behind the desk. “I don’t believe that.”

The hinges on the front door creaked, interrupting any further discussion, and Dottie Walker let herself into the measly office, a smirk spreading across her lips at the sight on Lonnie sprawled out on the couch. “I’m starving. You ready to… oh.” Green eyes wide in surprise, the redhead took a second to collect herself before aiming a cheerful smile in your direction. “Didn’t realize you had hired on help, Lonnie. Nice to see you, Y/N.”

Offering up a halfhearted wave, returned her cheery smile from where you sat. “Hey, Dottie.”

“What, is Lonnie failing miserably at book keeping and now he’s forced the duties on you?” Swatting at her friend to make him move over, Dottie dropped her bag onto the floor and made herself comfortable on the couch beside Lonnie.

“She ain’t doing my work.” Shifting to make room for his friend, Lonnie huffed at Dottie’s assumption he couldn’t do his own work. He’d been running the bond office coming up on twenty years and had yet to need anyone to help him get his shit done. “Girly is on her own mission.”

Dottie wasn’t surprised to hear you were searching through Lonnie’s records; Beth had been a regular customer of his and you were smart enough to figure out if there was something to find, Lonnie would have it. “Still trying to sort out Beth’s mess?”

You weren’t particularly alarmed that Dottie knew you were in town for more than Beth’s estate stuff, after all, searching in a bond office had very little to do with selling a house. The redhead was the eyes and ears of the Serpents and with her close association to FP and Lonnie, it wasn’t a hard leap to think she may have more insider knowledge than you’d originally thought.

Doing you best to remain non-committal, you just shrugged your shoulders and sent the computer chair for a spin. “Something like that.”

“I told her it was no use.” Wanting to shut down any further discussion of your digging and wanting Dottie to be a voice of reason and encourage you there was nothing more to find out, Lonnie hopped the bartender was picking up on the hint.  

Considering the stiff set of Lonnie’s shoulders, despite his lazing position, Dottie watched as you continued to spin around, seemingly bored with the research you’d been doing earlier. It was obvious that the bondsman was uneasy about you continuing to dig, fear of what you would find out and what could happen to you, his main concern. Dottie understood and shared his fears, but they had a difference of opinion on how to protect you.

Murmurings about Ioann hiring a pretty young thing to sell his stuff had made their way into the Wyrm not long after you’d stopped in that first night and Dottie had immediately sent out feelers in search of new information. Her dislike for the Russian business owner was well known in the channels they both worked in and when Beth had first told FP she was working for him, Dottie had made it her new mission to keep tabs on just what your mother was doing.

Dottie had never particularly liked Beth, finding her constant presence in the Wyrm a drain on supplies, but the business venture that she’d stumbled into had turned out to be beneficial for both Beth and the Serpents. Dottie had been hesitant when FP had approached her initially, knowing Beth’s track record and all, but it had proved to be quite the lucrative side hustle for the gang and in the end, Dottie hadn’t been able to turn away from it. The gig didn’t come without consequences, of course, and Dottie had seen first hand the damage that could be inflicted when the wrong people got wind of what was going on.

It was that firsthand knowledge that made Dottie want to point you towards the information instead of hiding it from you. If she could control who you talked to, she could at least ensure that you’d stay protected.

“Anything I can help with?” Dottie’s voice portrayed none of the concern that settled in her stomach, she was taking a big gamble and the risks were great, but she figured this was the only way to make sure everyone involved got out of this with their life.

Lonnie stiffened beside the red head, his blue eyes shifting from you to the woman beside him. This was not the path he was hoping Dottie would take. While you weren’t a kid anymore and probably more seasoned at taking care of yourself than Lonnie wanted to give you credit for, that didn’t stop him from wanting to keep you out of the mess your mother left behind. You had a life waiting back for you in New Orleans and he wanted to make sure you made it back there.

Lips tight with irritation, Lonnie watched you out of the corner of his eye as he spoke, tone saying everything about what he thought of Dottie’s play. “She won’t tell me what she is looking for.”

“Have you asked around the Blue Nugget?” Unwilling to look at Lonnie, Dottie kept her attention solely on you. She couldn’t let the concern and worry she knew was written all over Lonnie’s face change her hand. She’d made the offer and she had to stick to it.

Dottie’s suggestion had you stilling in the chair instantly, frame straightening and eyes zeroing in on the red head. “That bar in Greendale?”

You hadn’t given much thought to checking the establishments outside of Riverdale, ignorantly thinking your mother hadn’t been smart enough to think outside the town line, but the more you thought about it the more it made sense. You had a vague memory of the bar Dottie was talking about, it’s clientele about as classy as the Wyrms, though a little more diverse. When Dottie wouldn’t serve her anymore, Beth used to go out there and get her fill so it would only seem fitting that Beth would share information there.

“The very same.” A wry grin spread across Dottie’s features at the thought of the Blue Nugget. For all the rumors and stories that came out of the bar, Dottie knew it was a safe enough place for you to venture to. Mercy may be liberal when it comes to the business she allows to be conducted in her establishment, but she was a good egg and didn’t tolerate flak from her patrons.

You chewed on your lower lip and ruminated over the information, weighing the pros and cons of trucking out there. You couldn’t go after your normal run, if anyone was following you they might get wise, and you’d prefer to go earlier in the day to limit the number of people who saw you. It was a waste of fuel if you came out empty handed, but if you get the information you needed, it would be worth every damn drop.

Hoping you seemed unaffected by the information, despite the racing of your heart from the possibilities Dottie had hintied, you quirked your head and studied the pair on the couch. “Anyone there be willing to talk?”

“Mercy is still bartending.” Dottie did her best to remain impassive, but it was hard to keep her smile at bay. People may say you were a lot like your mother, but Dottie saw more to you. There was something stronger in you, something more resilient than what Beth had and Dottie had to respect your determination and confidence when pushing forward alone on the venture. “I think your mother and her were pretty tight.”

“Dottie…” There was a warning in Lonnie’s tone. Dottie’s willingness to share information was a stark contrast from his preference for silence on the subject and it was obvious he didn’t want her spilling out any more.

Waving off the big man’s concern, Dottie perused the collection of mugshots Lonnie had spread around the coffee table, a few of which she slipped into her bag beside the couch. “With all her snooping she was bound to find out anyways.”

Lonnie shook his head as he watched Dottie slip the Serpent mug shots from the table; even after all their years of friendship, he couldn’t for sure know what she would do with them. Either, she would round them up and bring them to him to collect a share of the bounty or they would mysteriously disappear from town and he’d be out the bond. Lonnie had yet to meet another women like the one beside him and the more he thought about it, the more he considered that to be a good thing.

Unwilling to say anything about the other business she was conducting, Lonnie opted to voice his concern about what he could, even though he knew they’d be ignored. “You shouldn’t be helping along.”

“I’d rather her find out from people I know then to find herself in some back alley with the wrong crowd.” Though Dottie’s tone was light, as if she had little concern about sharing the information or for your wellbeing, the look in her eyes told Lonnie that she knew something more and her reasoning wasn’t one hundred percent self serving.

You watched the dynamic of the two in front of you, seeing similarities in their friendship that walked the same line you’d shared with Sweet Pea, Fangs and Toni. Dottie and Lonnie weren’t just friends, they were family and they seemed to roll along with the weird growing pains and unexpected quirks that life threw without writing each other off.

Your heart sank at the realization of what you could have had all of this, if you hadn’t been so stuck on the ideas of other people. It hadn’t been until others pointed out flaws in your family, or flaws in yourself, that you had considering cutting the cord from everyone and you had never given yourself time to think about what it was that you really wanted. Sure, there had been a little unrest between you and Sweet Pea, but wasn’t that just how a relationship goes? Surely if you stuck around you all would have remained close and had something that mirrored the friendship across from you.

Uncomfortable with your own train of thought, you shifted yourself back to the present, back to what was the most pressing concern. “What does Mercy know?”

Green eyes bright with amusement, Dottie relaxed into the couch and shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her and see.”

“Got any other information you’d be willing to share?” Shifting to sit on the edge of your chair, fingers finding their way back to the pendant around your neck, you toyed anxiously as you pushed for more. If Dottie was willing to be loose lipped, you were going to take all that you could.

Amused by Lonnie’s increasing agitation, Dottie figured she could entertain a line of questioning for a while still. “I suppose that depends on what you’re looking for.”

“That hipster coffee shop that they’ve got over on the Northside.” Outside of FP, who you refused to talk to about anything, Dottie was the only person you could think that would have the inside scoop on anything Ioann was doing; she might only claim the Southside as her turf, but nothing happened in all of Riverdale without her hearing about it. “Know anything about the owner?”

Dottie’s easy going demeanor immediately slipped away at the mention of Ioann and his coffee shop, her green eyes taking on a guarded look and her lips setting in a firm line. “I don’t think I’ve got a lot of information to offer there.”

The air in the room seemed to change, tension working it’s way through everyone as Dottie’s words hung in the air. Her sudden turn around kicked your heart rate up and made your nerves stand on edge. Bad blood wasn’t uncommon on the Southside, but based on the redhead’s reaction, you would take a guess that this was more than just rival business dealings.

Before you could push the issue further, the hinges on the door creaked and Toni sauntered through, the weird tension dissipating from the room. “Finally. I’ve been driving around town looking for you.” Apparently not surprised to find you hunkered around behind a desk in a bond office, Toni’s heels clicked across the worn linoleum towards one of the customer chairs by the window when she caught sight of the pair on the couch.  “Hey Lonnie. Dottie?”

“Hi Toni.” Offering a lazy salute and a soft smile, Dottie gave the newcomer a curious look as she sunk into a waiting seat and kicked off her heels, but didn’t say anything.

Noticing her leaders curious glance, Toni chuckled as she rubbed her aching arches. “Showing property is killer on the feet.”

Your brows furrowed as your brain finally came around to registering Toni’s presence, all the questions you had for Dottie pushed to the back burner. “Why?”

“Why is it killer on the feet?” Toni quirked her head to the side, a brow raised as she tried to figure out what where you were going with your question.

A snort came from someone on the couch, but you couldn’t tell who it was since both of them were looking smug.

Eyes rolling at peanut gallery, you turned your back on them and focused your attention back on the water stains above you. “Why have you been looking for me?”

Amused, and hopeful you were in a complacent mood, Toni toed the back of heel as she gave you her sweetest smile. “I’ve got an open house on the Northside and I wanted company.”

“Why not take Fangs or Sweet Pea?” Not that you didn’t want to spend time with Toni, but it seemed a little odd for you to be tagging along to a professional open house.

“Because I’m taking full advantage of you while you’re in town?” Did Toni need the company at the open house? Of course not. But the property was in a rougher part of the Southside, an up and coming part for those buying, and Toni felt better having someone with her. It was also a great excuse to pry some more information out of you. “Besides, they’re both working.”

“I can’t. I’ve got an errand to run.” The pawn shop, you had to make it to the pawn shop.

Skeptical of your motives, figuring you were just making an excuse like you did the other night at the Wyrm, Toni scoffed and rolled her eyes. “It can’t wait a couple hours?”

Lonnie sighed in relief at Toni’s insistence, grateful that the pink haired serpent would keep you away from the hunt for a while and hopefully keep you out of trouble for the rest of the night. “Get out of here kid. The computer isn’t going to tell you anything more.”

Resigned that Lonni would forcibly remove you from the office if you didn’t go with Toni, you scooted back in search of the few belongings you brought with you. “Fine. But you’re buying me beer if I have to sit there all afternoon. And food.”

“Fair enough.” Toni would have agreed to anything if it meant not having to go the rounds with you, so she was pleased that is would only cost her a six pack and a bag of chips.

“Thanks for letting me commandeer your desk Lonnie.” Grabbing the keys and phone you’d stashed beside the computer, you slipped from behind the desk and joined Toni at the front of the office “And thanks Dottie… for the information.”

You hovered at the door for a moment, hoping maybe the redhead would offer one last sliver of information, but when she gave you nothing but a guarded look and a tight smile, you followed Toni out to her car.


End file.
